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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.
Shelf -...k3..
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
Edited by T. G. LaMOILLE,
Editor of "The Dixnne Life in Song^,!,' Etc.
CHICAGO:
Rhodes & McClurb
/
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883,
By J. B. McCluue & R. S. Rhodes,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
THE POET'S STAR-TUNNED HARP TO SWEEP.
E. B. Browning.
V
^HERE ARE KN THIS LOUD STUNNING TIDE
OF HUMAN CARE AND CRIME,
WITH WHOM THE MELODIES ABIDE
OF THE EVERLASTING CHIME;
WHO CARRY MUSIC IN THEIR HEART
THROUGH DUSKY LANE AND WRANGLING MART,
PLYING THEIR DAILY TOIL WITH BUSIER FEET,
BECAUSE THEIR SECRET SOULS A HOLY STRAIN REPEAT.
J. Keble.
CONTENTS.
A Beautiful Legend 126
A Christian Hymn. — Alfred Dommett 368
A Christmas Hymn. — Edmund H. Sears 339
A Love Song. — A. P. Graves 246
A Song ot Home.— Emily C H. Miller 216
A Woman's Love Dream. — Nettie P Houston 172
A Hundred Years form Now. — Mrs. Ford {Una.) 211
A Vfish.—S. Rogers 266
A Free Show. — Wyoming Kit 105
A Farewell 86
A Flower for the Dead 381
A Singing Lesson. — Jean Ingelow 383
A Little Word ..323
A Petition to Time. — B. Cornwall 43
A Portrait 100
A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea. — A. Cunningham 40
A Musical Instrument. — E. B. Broiv ning 133
An Angel in the House. — L. Hxmt 28
A Game Two Can Play 301
A Farewell. — Charles Kingshy 342
Advice to a young man. — Ben Johnson 330
At Che&s.—SallieA. Brock 207
At a Solemn Music. — John Milton --- 275
Annie and Willie's Prayer. — Mrs. S. P.Sno2v 296
And Thou art Dead.— .B(/ro«. - 327
Antony and Cleopatra. — Gen. W. H. Lytle 287
Angel Visits. — Mrs Hemans 363
After-Life of the Poet's Work.— Jo/m Keats 379
Album Verses. — Various Authors -. -395
After the Storm. — Mrs. Bishoj) Thompson - .365
Beautiful ThmgB.— Ellen P. Allerton 26
Beyond. — Henry Burton 67
Bed - 88
Bingen on the Rhine. — Mrs. Norton - - 149
Bugle Song. — A. Tennyson 177
Beauty : A Sonnet.— PF. Shakspere - -178
(vii.)
Vm CONTENTS.
BeautiinllLanda.— Mrs. Ellen H. Gates - * 235
Bishop Ken's Doxology _ 308
Byron's Finest Image 356
Brown Lark and Blackbird 336
Comfort 49
Christmas Chimes. — Various Authors 213
Counsel.— J/ar^/ E. W. Sherwood 378
Contrasts 391
Drifting.— CaKsto L. Grant 85
Dead. — Alma Lattin ., 124
David's Lament over Absalom.— iV. P. Willis 258
Death's First Day. — Byron 347
Elegy Written in a Country Church Yavdi.— Thomas Gray 55
Example. — ./ Eeble 70
Extracts from Burns.-i^. (?. i?aZ/ecfc 102
Extracts from " L' Allegro."— J. Milton 143
Extracts from " Criticism."—^. Pope 155
Evening. — Lord Byron • 335
Farewell to My Harp 400
Father, What'er of Earthly Bliss.— 4nna 5'feeZe 130
Friendship. — W. Shakspere^.. -.195
Faith. — Frances Anne Kemhle.. 87
From the Castle of Indolence.— J. Thompson 289
Gillyflowers 89
God's Ways 123
God Knoweth. — Mrs. Mary G. Brainard 161
Gone Before 341
Hymn of Nature.— TF. O. B. Peabody 315
Inward Music. — J. Keble ill
I'd Mourn the Hopes.— Tom Moore 78
I Saw Thee Weep. — George G. Byron - 824
liindred Hearts. — Mrs. Hemans 357
Lead, Kiadly Light. — J. H. Newman 35
Little Blown Hands. — Mary H. Krout 51
Love's Philosophy.— P. B. Shelley 114
Light and Darkness 241
Lines Written While Boat Sailing at Evening. — W. Words-
worth 267
CONTENTS. ix
Lines Written in an Album. — Byron ... .394
Majesty of Godi.— Thomas Sternhold 233
Memories. — Barry Cornivall 160
My Bride that Is to Be.— /. W.Riley 96
My Little Boy that Died. — Dinah Mtdoch-Craik 280
Maiden and Butterfly 31
My Angel, — Emily Huntington Miller - .169
Napoleon at Rest. — John Pierpont 325
Nature's.— Jo7m G. Whittier 231
Night and Death.— J". .Btoico White 269
New Poem by Lord Byron 273
Never Despair. — William C. Richards 311
"No, Not More Welcome."— 2'om il/ore 234
Never Failed Us 224
Ode to Evening.— W. CoZZtns 293
Ode to the Itark.—J. Hogg 165
Ode to the Brave.— TF. CoZ^ms 187
Our Own. — Mrs. M. E Sangster 75
Our Infant in Heaven 197
Ou the Death of J. R. Drake.— i^. G. Halleck 252
Over the River. — Nancie A. W. Priest 385
Parting - 125
Patriotism.— Sir W.Scott 167
Preface xiii
Questions. — Mrs. Rebecca N. Hazard 371
Questions and Answers. — Goethe 393
Rest 63
Rock Me to Sleep, Mother.— jE. A. Allen {Florence Percy) 185
Rnia on tho Roof. — Coates Kinney 304
Revenge of Injuries. — Lady Elizabeth Carew. .319
Sabbath Morning Thought?.— £'. P. Brothwell 181
Sad— A Short Tale in Short AVords.— Pr. S.F... 82
" Sometime, We Bay, and Turn our Eyes " 66
Sunset with the Clouds Ill
Song of Lightning.— Geo. W. Cutter 115
gong on May Morning. — J. Milton 168
Son,? of the Pioneers.— TFm. D. Gallagher .353
Songs.— ir. ShaJcspere 225
Sometime. — Mrs. Mary Riley Smith 61
X CONTENTS.
Sonnet on his Blindness. — J Milton 152
Spring.— iV. P. Willis 250
She Walks in Beauty. — Byron 310
Saturday Afternoon. — N. P. Willis .331
Serenade. — Edward Coate Pinkney 343
The Baby.— Changed from the Scotch 270
The Bright Side.— Mrs. M. A. Kidder 47
The Mother's Charge - 46
The Soldier's Dream. — T. Campbell 45
The Two Ages.— iT. S. Lezgr/i ----- 36
The Master's Touch.—//. Bonar 24
The King of Denmark's Kide. — Mrs. Norton 19
The Poet's Song. — A. Tennyson 17
The Whistler 18
The Rose.- -E. Waller 29
The Valley of Silence. — Father Ryan 64
The Blue and the Gray.— i^. M. Finch 73
The Cup Bearer. — Emelie Clare 76
The Old Church Bell.— TF. fl". Sparks 80
The Brook. — A. Tennyson 93
The Nativity.— J. Milton 103
The Youth Who Played Before He Looked 119
The Two Villages.— 22ose Terry Cooke 120
The Lover. — C. Patmore 122
The Dying Gladiator. — Lord Byron 135
The Teacher's Dream. — W.H. Venahle 136
The Meeting of the Waters.— Tom ilioore 140
The Lost Chord. — Adelaide A. Proctor 141
The Bivouac of the Dead.— T. OHara. 189
The True Poet. — From Bailey's Festus --.192
The Finest English Epigram.- £>r. Doddridge 196
"The Precious Gift of Song."— lZ?ss CMtwood 203
The Shell— .4. Tennyson 209
The Bridge.— //e?ir?/ W. Longfelloiv 221
The Sabbath of the Soul.— 3irs. Barbauld 228
The Bower of Bliss— £". Spenser 229
The Free Mind : A Sonnet.— 31. L. Garrison 242
The Pride of Battery B -- 243
The Source of Happiness.— Co/'tos Wilcox 247
The Mysterious Music of Ocean 248
The Winged Worshippers.— C/i«rZes Spragne 261
CONTENTS. XI
The Isle of the Long Ago.— B. 2^. Ta^Zor 263
The Dying Wife.— i?. .V. T 271
The Song of Steam.— Gt;orgfe W. Gutter - 277
The Departure of the Swallow.— W^m. Hoivitt 220
The Burial of Moses.— 3irs. C. F. Alexander 282
The Old Cottage Clock 321
The Evening Cloud.— Jo/m WHson 291
The Alpine Flowers.— ilirs. L. //. /SigoMr/iei/ 333
The Old Farm Gate.— ^'ttgefte /. Hall 351
The Water Lilly.— illrs. Hemcms 359
The Destruction of Sennacherib.— i?;/ron '^^
The Sacred Kavp.— Mrs. Hemans-..- 372
The Silent ChMren.— Elizabeth Stuart Phelps 375
The Everlasting Memovial—Horatius Bonar 387
The Farewell to My Harm.— rom Jlf oore *00
The Flowers' Year
The Old Canoe.— -E?m7(/ i2. Page ^^
The Beautiful City.— /. PF. i2i7e^ °°
The Touches of Her Hands.—/. W. Riley **
The Child of a King. -Hattie E. Buell - ^^
Two Views of Living.- lord Byroji ; Mrs. Barbauld 25
To Seneca Lake.— J. C. PercimtZ - ^^
Tired.— lfr.s. Hele)i Burnside - "
Three Characteristic Epitaphs
Two Pictures.- lifanaji Douglas -
Till Death Us Part.— I>ea?iStoHie?/ • "'"
To the Mocking Bird.-P. S-. Wilde JJ^
Two Lovers.— G'eorge ^Zioi '
They Went a Fishing ^54
Thanatopsis.— TF. C. Bryant "
To the Lady Anne Hamilton.- TF. R. Spenser - ^^
There Comes a Time „„^
There Be None of Beauty's Daughters.-P^ron <^^
To the Organ.— C. P. W.
To the Evening Wind.-TF. C. Bryant ^^^
Things of Beauty.— /o7m Xeafc
Through Night to Light.-A. Laighton ^^-
Thy Voice.— P. B. Marston
33
Unheed Psalms 0%
Under Milton's Picture.— /o/in Dryden ^-^
XU CONTENTS.
Vital Spark of Heavenly Flame. — A.Pope 307
Weary, Lonely, Eestless, 'H.om.eless.— Father Ryan - 38
Who Has Robbed the Ocean Cave ?~Jo}m Shaw 99
" When to the Sessions." — W. Shaksjoere 188
Woman.— £•. 5. Barret - 199
Which Shall It Be?-£. A. Allen -204
"When the Song's Gone"---- ---- 218
Woman's Voice. — Edwin Arnold 237
We Shall 'Knovf.^ Annie Herbert - 239
We Have Seen His Star .- - 370
Who Will Care? -.268
What is Noble ?~Charles Swain - 317
Wyoming. — Fitz-Greene Halleek -.- 344
With the Stream -..- 303
You Remember It, Don't You?— T/ios. H. Bayley 318
LIST OF AUTHORS,
Alexander 282
Allen 204
Allerton 26
Arnold - 237
Bailey - 192-318
Barbanld 25-228
Barret - 199
Bonar.-.. ...- 24-387
Brainard 161
Brock 207
Browning 133
Brothwell . 181
Bryant 213.254
Buell 200
Burnside — - 32
Burton 67
Byron-- 135-273-306-310-324-327
335-347-361-394.
Campbell 45
Carew- 319
Chitwood 203
Clare 76
Collins 187-293
Cooke 120
Cornwall 160
Craik - 280
Cutter 115-277
Cunningham 40
Doddridge 196
Dommett 368
Douglass 101
Dryden 236
Eliot 153 Marston
Finck 73
Ford ----211-242
Gallagher-- 353
Garrison 242
Gates --- 235
Goethe 393
Gray -.. 55
Graves 246
Grant - 85
Hall 351
Halleck 102-252-344
Herbert - 239
Hemans 357-359-363-372
Houston 172
Howitt.- 220
Hazard 371
Hogg 165
Hunt 28
Johnson 330
Keble iii-70
Keats 379-389
Kemble 87
Kidder.- 47
Kinney- 304
Kingsley 342
Krout 51
"Kit"..
Laighton 392
Leigh 36
Longfellow. 221
Lytle 287
292
[xiii.)
LIST OP AUTHORS.
Miller 169-216
Hilton 103-143-152-168-27O
Moore 78-140-234-400
Newman 35
Norton 19-149
O'Hara 189
Page 285
Patmore 122
Peabody 315
Percy 185
Percival 23
Pinkney 343
Pierpont 325
Pope 159-307
Phelps 375
Priest 385
Proctor 14j
Richards 311
Riley 68-96
Rogers 266
Ryan 38
Sangster 75
Scott 167
Sears 339
Shakspere 178-188-195-225
Shaw 99
Sherwood 378
Shelly 114
Sigourney 333
Snowe 296
Spenser 229-260
Sprague 261
Swain 317
Sparks - 80
Stanley 107
Sternhold 233
Steele 130
Taylor 263
Tennyson 17-93-177-209
Thompson 289-365
"Una" - 211
Waller 29
Whittier 231
White 269
Willis 331-258
Wilcox 247
Wilson - 291
Wordsworth 267
Wilde 113
Venable 136
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Bay of Naples ieontispiece.
"On Thy Fair Bosom Waveless Stream" 22
"Touch us Gently, Time" 42
"No Children Eun to Lisp their Sire's Eeturn" 54
"No More Shall the War Cry Sever" 72
The First Reporter 92
" A Shadowy Landscape Dipped in Gold" -- 110
"As a Reed with the Reeds of the River" ^ 132
Bingen on the Rhine 148
Musical Cherub Soar Singing Away 164
Minnehaha Falls. "And the Cataract Leaps in Glory" 176
Mother Come Back from the Echoless Shore - - - 184
Prairie Songsters. 202
" Light on Thy Hillg, Jerusalem !" 338
The Old Farm Gate - -3l0
" Awe-Btruck the Silent Children Hear 374
(XV.)
X
GEMS OF POETRY.
THE POET'S SONG.
A. TENNYSON.
HE rain had fallen, the Poet arose,
He passed by the town and out of the street,
A light wind blew from the gates of the sun.
And waves of shadow went over the wheat,
And he sat him down in a lonely place,
And chanted a melody low and sweet,
That made the wild swan pause in her cloud.
And the lark drop down at his feet.
The swallow stopt as he hunted the bee,
The snake slipt under a spray,
The wild hawk stood with the down on his beak,
And stared with his foot on the prey.
And the nightingale thought, " I have sung
many songs.
But never a one so gay.
For he sings of what the world will be
When the years have died away."
THE WHISTLER.
"You have heard," said a youth to his sweetheart who
stood,
AVhile he sat on a corn-sheaf at daylight's dedine —
" You have heard of the Danish boy's whistle of wood;
I wish that Danish boy's whistle was mine."
" And what would you do with it? Tell me," she said,
"While an arch smile played over her beautiful face,
" I would blow it," he answered, " and then my fair maid
Would fly to my side and there take her place."
" Is that all you wish for ? That may be yours
Without any magic," the fair maiden cried ;
" A favor so light, one's good nature secures,"
And she playfully seated herself by his side.
" I would blow it again," said the youth, " and a charm
Would work so that not even modesty's cheek
Would be able to keep from my neck your fine arm ! "
She smiled as she laid her fair arm 'round his neck.
" Yet once more would I blow, and. the magic divine
Would bring me a third time an exquisite bliss —
You would lay your fair cheek to this brown one of mine,
And your lips stealing past would give me a kiss."
The maiden laughed out in her innocent glee —
" What a fool of youi'self with a whistle you'd make;
For only consider how silly 'twould be
To sit there and whistle for — what you might take."
18
— Northwestern Agriculturist.
THE KING OF DENMARK'S RIDE.
MRS. NORTON.
ORD was brought to the Danish king
(Hm-ry!)
That the love of his heart lay suifering
And pined for the comfort his voice would bring;
(O ride as though you were flying!)
Better he loves each golden curl
On the brow of that Scandinavian girl
Than his rich crown- jewels of ruby and pearl;
And his Rose of the Isles is dying!
Thirty nobles saddled with speed !
(Hurry!)
Each one mounting a gallant steed
Which he kept for battle and days of need;
(O ride as though you were flying!)
Spurs were struck in the foaming flank:
Worn-out chargers staggered and sank;
Bridles were slackened, and girths were burst;
But ride as they would, the King rode first,
For his rose of the Isles lay dying!
His nobles are beateu, one by one;
(Hurry!)
They have fainted, and faltered, and homeward gone ;
His little fair page now follows alone,
For strength and for courage trying!
The king looked back at that faithful child;
19
20 GEMS or POETRY.
Wan was the face that answering smiled;
They passed the drawbridge with clattering din,
Then he dropped; and only the King rode in
Where his Kose of the Isles lay dying!
The King blew a blast on his bugle horn;
(Silence!)
No answer came; but faint and forlorn
An echo returned on the cold gray morn,
Like the breath of a spirit sighing.
The castle portal stood grimly wide;
None welcomed the King from that weary ride;
For dead, in the light of the dawning day.
The pale sweet form of the welcomer lay,
Who had yearned for his voice while dying !
The panting steed, with a drooping crest,
Stood weary.
The King returned from her chamber of rest,
The thick sobs choking in his breast;
And, that dumb companion eying,
The tears gushed forth which he strove to check;
He bowed his head on his charger's neck:
" O steed, that every nerve didst strain,
Dear steed, our ride hath been in vain
To the halls where my love lay dying! "
** On thy fair bosom, waveless stream.
82
TO SENECA LAKE.
J. G. PEKCIVAL.
N thy fair bosom, silver lake,
The wild swan spreads his snowy sail.
And round his breast the ripples break,
As do-vvn he bears before the gale.
On thy fair bosom, waveless stream.
The dipping paddle echoes far.
And flashes in the moonlight gleam.
And bright reflects the polar star.
The waves along thy pebbly shore,
As blows the north wind, heave their foam.
And curl around the dashing oar,
As late the boatman hies him home.
How sweet, at set of sun, to view
Thy golden mirror spreading wide,
And see the mist of mantling blue
Float round the distant mountain's side !
At midnight hour, as shines the moon,
A sheet of silver spreads below,
And sAvift she cuts, at highest noon,
Light clouds, like wreaths of purest snow.
On thy fair bosom, silver lake,
O, I could ever sweep the oar.
When early birds at morning wake.
And evening tells us toil is o'er !
V
THE MASTER'S TOUCH.
\V^ y^V/:A4}y^^^ -^^
'e^J^. .-^'^■■-s^:y.AO^^^ £f\£^
H. BONAE.
N the still air the music lies unheard;
In the rough marble beauty hides unseen:
To make the music and the beauty, needs
The master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen.
Great Master, touch us with thy skillful hand;
Let not the music that is in us die !
Great Sculptor, hew and polish us ; nor let,
Hidden and lost, thy form within us lie !
Spare not the stroke ! do with us as thou wilt!
Let there be naught unfinished, broken, marred;
Complete thy purpose, that we may become
Thy perfect image, thou our God and Lord !
24
TWO VIEWS OF LIVING.
My life is in the sere and yellow leaf,
The flowers and fruits of love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief
Are mine alone.
The fire that on my bosom preys
Is lone as some volcanic isle;
No torch is lighted at its blaze —
A funeral pile.
— Lord Byron.
Life! I know not what thou art,
But know that thou and I must part;
And when, or how, or where we met,
I own to me's a secret yet.
Life! we've been long together
Through pleasant and through cloudy weather;
'Tis hard to part when friends are dear,- —
Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear;
— Then steal awaj, give little warning.
Choose thine ow.n time;
Say not Good Night, — but in some brighter clime
Bid me Good Morning.
— Mrs. Btrbauld.
BEAUTIFUL THINGS.
ELLEN P. ALLEKTON.
v<^J,.«.^■g.^'> At^tM^
EAUTIFUL faces are those that wear,
It matters little if dark or fair —
Wholesouled honesty printed there.
Beautiful eyes are those that show,
Like crystal panes where hearthfires glow.
Beautiful thoughts that burn below.
Beautiful lips are those whose words
Leap from the heart like songs of birds,
Yet whose utterance prudence girds.
Beautiful hands are those that do
Work that is earnest and brave and true,
Moment by moment the long day through.
Beautiful feet are those that go
On kindly ministries to and fro,
Down lowliest ways if God wills it so.
Beautiful shoulders are those that bear
Ceaseless burdens of homely care.
With patient grace and daily prayer.
Beautiful lives are those that bless,
Silent rivers of happiness.
Whose hidden fountains but few can guess.
26
BEAUTIFUL THINGS.
27
Beautiful twilight, at set of sun ;
Beautiful goal, with race well run ;
Beautiful rest, with work well done.
Beautiful graves, where grasses creep,
Where brown leaves fall, where drifts lie deep
Over worn-out hands ; oh, beautiful sleep !
AN ANGEL IN THE HOUSE.
L. HUNT.
OW sweet it were, if without feeble fright,
Or dying of the dreadful beauteous sight.
An angel came to us, and we could bear
To see him issue from the silent air
At evening in our room, and bend on ours
His divine eyes, and bring us from his bowers
News of dear friends, and children who have
never
Been dead indeed, —as we shall know forever.
Alas! we think not what we daily see
About our hearths, angels, that are to be,
Or may be if they will, and we prepare
Their souls and ours to meet in happy air, —
A child, a friend, a wife whose soft heart sings
In unison with ours, breeding its futiire wings.
28
THE ROSE.
E. WALLER.
Go, lovely rose !
Tell her that wastes her time on me,
That now she knows.
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her that's young.
And shnns to have her gi-aces spied.
That hadst thou sprung
In deserts where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.
29
30 GEMS OF POETRY.
Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retired,
Bid her come forth,
Suffer herself to be desired,
And not blush so to be admired.
Then die, that she,
The common fate of all things raie
May read in thee,
How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
f A lady of Cambridge, England, loaned Waller's poems to H.
K. White, who added the following stanza to the above poem;
thus illustrating the difference between earthly and heavenly
inspiration :)
" Yet, though thou fade.
From thy dead leaves let fragrance rise;
And teach the maid
That goodness Time's rude hand defies;
That Virtue lives when Beauty dies."
MAIDEN AND BUTTERFLY.
Within the sun-flecked shadows of a forest glade,
Seeking for wildwood flowers, a little maid
Sang to her happy heart, as to and fro
She wandered 'mid the swaying grasses low ;
When suddenly a brilliant butterfly
Flashed, like a jewel in the sunshine, by
And, darting swiftly now that way, now this,
Alighted on her lips and stole a kiss,
"Forgive me, sweet!" he cried. "I swear to you,
I only meant to spy a drop of dew
From out the fragrant chalice of these roses bright.
But, hovering undecided where to 'light,
I saw yoiu- lily-face uplifted here.
And thought yoiu- red, red lips were rosebuds, dear!"
Tossing her sunny curls, she raised her head.
As, with an air of queenly grace, she said:
" This once I will forgive ; but, pray, beware
32 GEMS OF POETRY.
How often you mistake for blossoms rare
A maiden's lips ! " She watched him flutter near.
" To think mine, roses, you are welcome, dear.
But," with a merry glance, half arch, half shy,
" They do not bloom for every butterfly! "
" TIRED."
MISS HELEN BUENSIDE.
"Tired!" Oh yes! so tired, dear.
The day has been very long;
But shadowy gloaming draweth near,
'Tis time for the even song,
I'm ready to go to rest at last,
Ready to say " Good night:"
The sunset glory darkens fast,
To-morrow will bring me light.
It has seemed so long since morning-tide.
And I have been left so lone.
Young smiling faces thronged my side.
When the early sunlight shone;
But they grew tired long ago,
And I saw them sink to rest,
With folded hands and brows of snow.
On the green earth's mother -breast.
Sing once again, "Abide with me,"
That sweetest evening hymn;
And now "Good night!" I cannot see.
The light has grown so dim;
"Tired!" Ah, yes, so tired, dear,
I shall soundly sleep to-night,
With never a dream, and never a fear
To wake in the morning light.
UNHEEDED PSALMS.
God hath His solitudes, unpeopled yet,
Save by the peaceful life of bird and flower,
Where, since the world's foundation, He hath set
The hiding of His power.
Year after year His rains make fresh and green
Lone wastes of prairies, where, as daylight goes,
Legions of bright-hued blossoms all unseen
Their carven petals close.
Year after year unnumbered forest leaves
Expand and darken to their perfect prime ;
Each smallest groAvth its destiny achieves
In His appointed time.
Amid the strong recesses of the hills.
Fixed by His word, immutable and calm.
The murmuring river all the silence fills
With its unheeded psalm.
From deep to deep the floods lift up their voice.
Because His hand hath measured them of old;
The far outgoings of the morn rejoice
His wonders to unfold.
33
34 GEMS OF POETRY.
The smallest cloudlet wrecked in distant storms,
That wanders homeless through the summer
skies,
Is reckoned in His purposes, and forms
One of His argosies.
Where the perpetual mountains patient wait,
Girded with purity before His throne.
Keeping from age to age inviolate
Their everlasting crown;
Where the long- gathering waves of ocean break
With ceaseless music o'er untrodden strands,
From isles that day by day in silence wake,
From earth's remotest lands.
The anthem of His praise shall uttered be ;
All works created on His name shall call,
And laud, and bless His holy name, for He
Hath pleasure in them all.
LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT.
J. H. NEWMAN.
Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on;
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on.
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead Thou me on.
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will: remember not past years!
So long Thy power hath blest me^ sure it still
Will lead me on
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile
Which I have loved long since, and lost aw^hile
Meanwhile, along the narrow, rugged path
Thyself hast trod.
Lead, Savior, lead me home in childlike faith,
Home to my God,
To rest forever after earthly strife.
In the calm light of everlasting life.
35
THE TWO AGES.
H. S. LEIGH,
Folks were happy as days were long,
In the old Arcadian times:
When life seemed only a dance and song
In the sweetest of all sweet climes.
Our world grows bigger, and stage by stage,
As the pitiless years have rolled.
We've quite forgotten the Golden Age,
And come to the Age of Gold.
Time went by in a sheepish way
Upon Thessaly's plains of yore.
In the nineteenth century lambs at play
Mean mutton, and nothing more.
Our swains at present are far too sage
To live as one lived of old:
So they couple the crook of the Golden Age
With a hook in the Age of Gold.
From Corydon's reed the mountains round
Heard news of his latest flame;
And Tityrus made the woods resound
With echoes of Daphne's name.
They kindly left us a lasting guage
Of their musical art, we're told:
36
GEMS OF POETRY. 37
And the Pandean pipe of tJie Golden Age
Brings mirth to the Age of Gold.
Dwellers in hnts and in marble hall —
From shepherdess up to queen —
Cared little for bonnets, and less for shawl,
And nothing for crinoline.
But now simplicity's not the rage,
And it's funny to think how cold
The dress they wore in the Golden Age
Would seem in the Age of Gold.
Electric telegraphs, printing, gas,
Telephones, balloons and steam,
Are little events that have come to pass
Since the days of the old regime;
And in spite of Lempriere's dazzling page,
I'd give — though it might seem bold —
A hundred years of the Golden Age
For a year of the Age of Gold.
WEAKY, LONELY, RESTLESS, HOMELESS.
FATHER RYAN.
Weary hearts! weary hearts! by cares of life oppressed,
Ye are wandering in the shadows, ye are sighing for the
rest;
There is darkness in the heavens, and the earth is bleak
below,
And the joys we taste to-day may to-morrow turn to woe.
Weary hearts! God is rest.
Lonely hearts! lonely hearts! 'tis but a land of grief;
Ye are pining for repose, ye are longing for relief;
What the world hath never given, kneel and ask of God
above,
And your grief shall turn to gladness if you lean upon His
love.
Lonely hearts! God is love.
Restless hearts! restless hearts! ye are toiling night and
day,
And the flowers of life, all withered, leave but thorns along
your way;
Ye are waiting, ye are waiting till your toilings here shall
cease,
And your ever-restless throbbing is a sad, sad prayer for
peace.
Restless hearts! God is peace.
38
WEAKY, LONELY, KESTLESS, HOMELESS. 39
Broken hearts! broken hearts ! ye are desolate and lone,
And low voices from the past o'er your present ruins moan;
In the sweetest of your pleasiu-es there was bitterest alloy,
And a starless night hath followed on the sunset of your
joy-
Broken hearts! God is joy.
Homeless hearts! homeless hearts! through the dreary,
dreary years.
Ye are lonely, lonely wanderers, and your way is wet with
tears ;
In bright or blighted places, wheresoever ye may roam.
Ye look away from earthland, and ye murmur, " Where is
Home?"
Homeless hearts! God is home.
V
A WET SHEET AND A FLOWING SEA.
A. CUNNINGHAM.
WET sheet and a flowing sea,
A wind that follows fast,
And fills the white and rustling sail,
And bends the gallant mast, —
And bends the gallant mast, my boys.
While, like the eagle free,
Away the good ship flies, and leaves
Old England on our lee.
O for a soft and gentle wind !
I heard a fair one cry ;
But give to me the swelling breeze,
And white waves heaving high, —
The white waves heaving high, my lads.
The good ship tight and free ;
The world of waters is our home,
And merry men are we.
There's a tempest in yon horned moon,
And lightning in yon cloud;
And hark! the music, mariners,
The wind is wak'ning loud, —
The wind is wak'ning loud, my boys.
The lightning flashes free;
The hollow oak our palace is.
Our heritage the sea.
40
A PETITION TO TIME.
B. COENWALL.
Touch US gently, Time !
Let us glide adown thy stream
Gently,— as we sometimes glide
Through a quiet dream !
Humble voyagers are we,
Husband, wife, and children three, —
(One is lost,-an angel fled
To the azure overhead !)
Touch us gently, Time !
We've not proud nor soaring wings;
Our ambition, our content.
Lies in simple things.
Humble voyagers are we,
O'er life's dim, unsounded sea,
Seeking only some calm clime ; —
Touch us gently, gentle Time !
N.
THE TOUCHES OF HER HANDS.
J. W. BILEY.
HE touches of her hands are like the fall
Of velvet snowflakes ; like the touch of down
The peach just brushes 'gainst the garden wall;
The flossy fondlings of the thistle -wisp
Caught in the crinkle of a leaf of brown
The blighting frost has turned from green to
crisp.
Soft as the falling of the dusk at night,
The touches of her hands, and the delight—
The touches of her Hands !
The touches of her hands are like the dew
That falls so softly down no one e'er knew
The touch thereof save to lovers like to one
Astray in lights where ranged Endymion.
Oh, rarely soft, the touches of her hands,
As drowsy zephyrs in enchanted lands ;
Or pulse of dying fay ; or fairy sighs ;
Or — in between the midnight and the dawn,
"When long unrest and tears and fears are gone —
Sleep, smoothing down the lids of weary eyes.
THE SOLDIER'S DREAM.
T. CAMPBELL.
Our bugles sang truce, — for the night-cloud had lower'd,
And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky ;
And thousands had siink on the ground over-power'd,
The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.
When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,
By the wolf- scaring fagot that guarded the slain;
At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,
And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
Methought fi'om the battle-field's dreadful array,
Far, far I had roam'd on a desolate track:
'Twas autumn, — and sunshine arose on the way
To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back.
I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft
In life's morning march, when my bosom was young;
I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,
And knew the sweet strain that the corn -reapers sung.
Then pledged we the wine- cup, and fondly I swore.
From my home and my weeping friends never to part;
My little ones kiss'd me a thousand times o'er,
And my wife sobb'd aloud in her fullness of heart.
i6 GEMS OF POETRY.
"Stay, stay with us, — rest, thou art weary and worn;"
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay; —
But sorrow return' d with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.
■•X
THE MOTHER'S CHARGE.
"Behold,! commit my daughter unto thee of special trust.
Precious and lovely, I yield her to thee!
Take her, the gem of thy dwelling to be!
She who was ever my solace and pride
Grlides from my bosom to cling to thy side.
Guard her with care, which must never decline ;
Make her thy day-star — she long hath been mine;
Lonely henceforth is my desolate lot,
What is the casket where the jewel is not ?
Take her and pray that thine arm may be strong.
Safely to shield her from danger and wrong,
Be to her all that her heart hath portrayed,
Then o'er thy path there will gather no shade.
Now she doth love thee as one without spot —
Dreams of no sorrow to darken her lot —
Joyful, yet tearful, I yield her to thee;
Take her, the light of thy dwelling to be!
THE BRIGHT SIDE.
MRS. M. A. KIDDEK.
There is many a rest on the road of life,
If we only would stop to take it;
And many a tone from the better land,
If the querulous heart would wake it.
To the sunny soul that is full of hope,
And whose beautiful trust never faileth.
The gi-ass is green, and the flowers are bright,
Though the Wintry storm prevaileth.
Better to hope, though the clouds hang low,
And to keep the eyes still lifted;
For the sweet blue sky will soon peep through,
When the ominous clouds are rifted.
There was never a night without a day,
Nor an evening without a morning;
And the dar"kesx hour, the proverb goes.
Is just before the dawning.
There is many a gem in the path of life.
Which we pass in our idle pleasure,
That is richer far than the jewelled crown,
Or the miser's hoarded treasure-,
It may be the love of a little child.
Or a mother's prayer to heaven,
Or only a beggar's grateful thanks
For a cup of water given.
48 GEMS OF POETRY.
Better to weave in the web of life
A bright and golden filling,
And to do God's will with a ready heart,
And hands that are swift and willing,
Than to sn^p the delicate silver threads
Of our curious lives asunder,
And then blame heaven for the tangled ends.
And sit to grieve and wonder.
COMFORT.
If there should come a time as well there may,
When sudden tribulation smites thine heart,
And thou dost come to me for help, and stay,
And comfort — how shall I perform my part ?
How shall I make my heart a resting-place,
A shelter safe for thee when terrors smite ?
How shall I bring the sunshine to thy face,
And dry thy tears in bitter woes' despite ?
How shall I win strength to keep my voice,
Steady and firm, although I hear thy sobs ?
How shall I bid thy fainting soul rejoice.
Nor mar the counsel of mine own heart-throbs ?
Love, my love, teaches me a certain way,
So, if the dark hour comes, I am thy stay.
I must live higher, neai'est the reach
Of angels in their blessed truthfulness,
Learn their usefulness, ere I can teach
Content to thee whom I would greatly bless.
Ah, me ! what woe were mine if thou should'st come.
Troubled, but trusting unto me for aid.
And I should meet thee, powerless and dumb,
Willing to help thee, but confused, afi-aid ?
It shall not happen thus, for I will rise,
God helping me, to higher lite, and gain
49 4
50
GEMS OF POETRY
Courage and strength to thee counsel wise.
And deeper love to bless thee in thy paiia.
Fear not, dear love, thy trial hour shall be
The dearest bond between my heart and thee
LITTLE BROWN HANDS.
MARY H. KROUT.
[The following poem, written by Mary H. Krout, of Crawfords-
ville, Ind., ten years ago, when its author was in her thirteenth
year, is one of the most beautiful and expressive ever penned in
the English language, and should find a place throughout the
length and breadth of America wherever the dignity of labor is
recognized:]
They drive home the cows from the pasture,
Up through the long, shady lane,
Where the qiiail whistles loud in the wheat field,
That is yellow with ripening grain.
They find, in the thick waving grasses,
Where the scarlet- lipped strawberry grows,
They gather the earliest snowdrops.
And the first crimson buds of the rose.
They toss the hay in the meadow,
They gather the elder bloom white,
They find where the dusky grapes purple
In the soft tinted October light.
They know where the apples hang ripest,
And are sweeter than Italy's wines;
They know where the fruit hangs the thickest.
On the long, thorny blackberry vines.
They gather the delicate seaweeds,
51
52 GEMS OF POETRY.
And build tiny castles of sand :
They pick up the beau.tiful sea shells-
Fairy barks that have drifted to land.
They wave from the tall, rocking tree tops,
"Where the Oriole's hammock nest swings,
And at night time are folded in slumber
By a song that a fond mother sings.
Those who toil bravely are strongest;
The humble and poor become great:
And from those brown -handed children
Shall grow mighty rulers of state.
The pen of the author and statesman,
The noble and wise of the land,
The sword and chisel and palette
Shall be held in the little brown hand.
" No children run to lisp their sire's retiirn,^^
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
54
ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD.
THOMAS GRAY.
HE curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way.
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the
sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds.
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tinklings hill the distant folds:
Save that, from yonder ivy- mantled tower,
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,
Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's
shade.
Where heaves the turf in many a moldering
heap,
Each in his narrow cell forever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,
55
56 GEMS OF POETRY.
The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
For them np more the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or busy housewife ply her evening care;
No children run to lisp their sire's return.
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ;
How jocund did they drive their team afield!
How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil.
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile,
The short and simple annals of the poor.
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power.
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave.
Await alike the inevitable hour :
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Nor you, ye Proud! impute to these the fault,
If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise.
Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted
vault.
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Can storied urn or animated bust
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ?
Can Honor's voices ])rovoke the silent dust.
Or Flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death ?
ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 57
Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd,
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of Time, did ne'er unroll;
Chill Penury repress' d their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The. dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
A.nd waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute ingloriou^lNIilton here may rest,
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood
The applause of listening senates to command.
The threats of pain and ruin to despise.
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,
And read their history in a nation's eyes,
Their lot forbade; nor circumscribed alone
Their growi ng virtues, but their crimes confined;
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne.
And shut the gates of Mercy on mankind;
The struggling pangs of conscious Truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenuoiis Shame,
Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride
With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
58 . GEMS OF POETEY.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;
Along the cool sequester' d vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Yet e'en these bones, from insult to protect.
Some frail memorial still erected nigh,
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture
deck'd,
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
Their name, their years, spelt l:)y the unletter'd
Muse,
The place of fame and elegy supply,
And many a holy text around she strews,
That teach the rustic moralist to die.
For who, to dumb Forjjptfulness a prey.
This pleasing, anxious being e'er resign'd,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind/
On some fond breast the parting soul relies.
Some pious drops the closing eye requires :
E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
For thee, who, mindful of the unhonor'd dead.
Dost in these lines their ai'tless tale relate.
If chance, by lonely Contemplation lead,
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate.
Haply some hoary- headed swain may say,
" Oft have we seen him, at the peep of dawn.
Brushing with hasty steps the dews away.
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD. 59
" There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
That wreathes its old fantastic root so high,
His listless length at noontide would he stretch.
And pore upt)n the brook that babbles by.
" Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,
Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove;
Now drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn,
Or crazed with care, or cross' d in hopeless love.
" One morn I raiss'd him on the accustom' d hill,
Along the heath, and near his favorite tree;
Another came, nor yet beside the rill.
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood, was he:
''The next, with dirges due, in sad array.
Slow through the churchway-path we saw him
borne.
Approach, and read (for thou canst read) the lay
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn:"
THE EPITAPH.
Here rest's his head upon the lap of Earth,
A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown:
Fair Science frown' d not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere;
Heaven did a recompense as largely send;
He gave to misery all he had — a tear;
He gain'd from Heaven — 'twas all he wish'd — a
friend.
No further seek his merits to disclose.
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode.
60
GEMS OF POETRY.
(There they alike in trembling hope repose)
The bosom of his Father and his God.
SOMETIME.
MRS, MAY RILEY SMITH.
Sometime, when all life's lessons have been learned,
And sun and stars forevermore have set.
The things which our weak judgment here had spurred.,
The things o'er which we grieved with lashes weti
Will flash before us out of life's dark night,
As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue;
And we shall see how all God's plans were right,
And how what seemed reproof was love most true
And we shall see how, while we frown and sigh,
God's plans go on as best for you and me;
How, when we called, he heeded not our cry,
Because his wisdom to the end covild see.
And even as prudent parents disallow
Too much of sweet to craving babyhood,
So God, perhaps, is keeping fi'om us now
Life's sweetest things, because it seemeth good.
And if, sometimes, commingled with life's wine,
We find the wormwood and rebel and shrink.
Be sm'e a wiser hand than yours or mine
Pours out this portion for our lips to di'ink.
And if some friend we love is lying low.
Where human kisses cannot reach his face,
62 GEMS OF POETRY
Oh, do not blame the loving Father so.
But wear your sorrow with obedient grace.
And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath
Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friend,
And that, sometimes, the sable pall of death
Conceals the fairest boon his love can send.
If we could push ajar the gates of life.
And stand within and all God's working see.
We could interpret all this doubt and strife,
And for each mysteiy could find a key !
But not to-d:iy. Then be content, poor heart!
God's plans, like lilies, pure and white, unfold;
We must not tear the close- shut leaves apart.
Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.
And if, through patient toil, we reach the land
AVhore tired feet, with sandals loose, may rest.
When we shall clearly know and understand —
I think that we will say, " God knew the best!"
REST.
[The following lines were found under the pillow of a soldier
lying dead in a hospital near Port Royal, South Carolina. We
have never, we believe, seen verses more true and touching.
They are a new and perfect expression of world-wide feeling:]
I lay me down to sleep, with little thought of care,
Whether waking find me here, or there.
A bowing, burdened head, that only asks to rest.
Unquestioning, upon a loving breast.
My good right hand forgets its cunning now •,
To march the weary march I know not how.
I am not eager, bold, nor strong — all that is past,
I'm ready now to die, at last, at last.
My half day's work is done, and this is all my part:
I give a patient God my patient heart,
And grasp his banner still, though all its blue be dim.
These stripes, no less than stars, lead after Him.
63
•X.
THE VALLEY OF SILENCE.
FATHER KYAN.
WALK down the Valley of Silence
Down the dim, voiceless valley alone ;
And I hear not the fall of a footstep
Around me — save God's and my own,
And the hush of my heart is as holy
As hovers where angels have flown.
Long ago was I weary of voices,
Whose music my heart could not win ;
Long ago was I weary of noises,
That fretted my soul with their din;
Long ago was I weary of places.
Where I met but the human and sin.
And still I pined for the perfect,
And still found the false with the true,
I sought mid the human for heaven,
But caught a mere glimpse of the blue;
I wept as the clouds of the world veiled
Even that glimpse from my view.
I toiled on heart-tired of the human,
I moaned mid the mazes of men,
64
THE VALLEY OE SILENCE. 65
Till I kiiolt, long ago, at au Altar,
And hoard a Voice call nie; since theu
I walk down the Valley of Silence,
That lies far beyond mortal ken.
Do yon ask what I found in the Valley ?
'Tis my trysting jilace with the Divine.
When I fell at the feet of the Holy,
And about me the Voice said, "Be Mine,"
There arose from the dei)ths of my spirit.
An echo, "My heart shall be Thine."
Do you ask how I live in the Valley ?
I weep, and I dream, and I pray:
But my tears are as sweet as the dew drops,
That fall on the roses of May;
And my prayer like a perfume from censer
Ascondeth to God night and day.
In the hush of the Valley of Silence,
I di-eam all the songs that I sing;
And the music floats down the dim valley.
Till each finds a word for a wino".
That to men, like the doves of the deluge,
The message of Peace they may bring.
But far out on the deep there are billows,
That never shall break on the beach;
And I have heard songs in the Silence,
That never shall float into speech;
And I have had dreams in the Valley,
Too lofty for language to reach.
And I have seen forms in the Valley,
Ah, me! how my s})irit was stirred;
And they wear holy veils on their faces,
66 GEMS OF POETKY.
Their footsteps can scarcely be heard
They jiass through the Valley like virgins,
Too pure for the touch of a word.
Do you a§k me the place of the Valley,
Ye hearts that are harrowed by care ?
It lieth afar between Mountains,
And God and His angels are there;
And one is the dark Mount of Sorrow,
The other the bright Mount of Prayer.
' Some time," we say, and turn our eyes
Toward the far hills of Paradise,
Some day, some time, a sweet new rest
Shall blossom, flower-like in each breast.
Some time, some day our eyes shall see
The faces kept in memory;
Some day their hands shall clasp our hands,
Just over in the morning lands.
Some day our ears shall hear the song
Of triumph over sin and wi'ong.
Some time, some time, but ah! not yet!
Still we will wait and not forget.
That " some time all these things shall be,
And rest be given to you and me."
So let \\3 wait, though years move slow.
That glad " some time" will come, we know.
^v^^
^.
BEYOND.
HENRY BURTON.
Never a word is said
But it trembles in the air,
And the truant voice is sped,
To vibrate everywhere;
And perliaps far off in eternal years
The echo may ring upon our ears.
Never are kind acts done
To wipe the weeping eyes,
But like the flashes of the sun,
They signal to the skies;
And up above the angels read
How Ave have helped the sorer need.
Never a day is given.
But it tones the after years.
And it carries up to heaven
Its sunshine or its tears;
While the to-morrows stand and wait,
The silent mutes by the outer gate.
There is no end to the sky.
And the stars are everywhere,
And time is eternity.
And the here is over there ;
For the common deeds of the common day
Are ringing bells in the far-away.
6T
THE BEAUTIFUL CITY.
J. W. RILEY.
HE Beautiful City ! Forever
Its rapturous praises resound,
Aud we fain would behold it — but neA'^er
A glimpse of its gloiy is foiind.
We slacken our lips at the tender
White breasts of our mothers to hear
Of its marvelous beauty and splendor ; —
We see — but the gleam of a tear !
Yet never the story may tire us —
First graven in symbols of stone —
Rewritten on scrolls of papyrus,
And parchment, and scattered and blov.n
By the winds of the tongues of all nations,
Like a litter of leaves wildly whirled
Down the rack of a hundred translations,
From the earliest lisp of the world
We compass the earth and the ocean
From the Orient's uttermost light,
To where the last ripple in motion
Lips hem of the skirt of the night, —
But The Beautiful City evades us —
No spire of it glints in the sun —
No glad- bannered battlement shades us
When all our long journey is done.
THE BEAUTIFUL OITy.
Where lies it ? We question and listen ;
We lean from the mountain, or mast,
And see but dull earth, or the glisten
Of seas inconceivably vast :
The dust of the one blurs our vision —
The glare of the other our brain,
Nor city nor island elysian
In all of the land or the main !
We kneel in dim fanes where the thunders
Of organs tumultuous roll.
And the longing heart listens and wonders.
And the eyes look aloft from the soul.
But the chanson grows fainter and fainter.
Swoons wholly away and is dead ;
And our eyes only reach where the painter
Has dabbled a saint overhead.
The Beautiful City ! O mortal,
Fare hopefully on in thy quest.
Pass down through the green grassy portal
That leads to the valley of rest,
There first passed the One who, in pity
Of all thy great yearning, awaits
To point out the Beautiful City,
And loosen the trump at the gates
EXAMPLE.
J. KEBI.E.
We scatter seeds with careless hand,
And dream we ne'er shall see them more-
But foi a thousand years
Their fruit appears,
In weeds that mar the land
Or healthful store.
In deeds we do, the words we say.
Into still air they seem to fleet;
We count them ever past;
But they shall last —
In the dread judgment they
And we shall meet.
I charge thee by the years gone by,
For the love of brethren dear,
Keep, then, the one true way
In work and play.
Lest in the world their cry
Of woe thou hear.
" No more shall the war-cry sever."
THE BLUE AND THE GRAY.
F. M. FINCH.
Y the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of iron have fled,
Where the blades of the gi-ave grass quiver
Asleep are the ranks of the dead ; —
Under the scd and the dew,
Waiting the Judgment day •
Under the one, the Blue;
Under the other, the Gray.
These in the robings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat.
All with the liattle -blood gory.
In the dusk of eternity meet : —
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the Judgment day; —
Under the laurel, the Blue;
Under the willow, the Gray.
From the silence of sorrowful hours
The desolate mourners go,
Lovii]g]y laden with flowers
Alike for the friend and the foe ; —
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the Judgment day;
73
74 GEMS OP POETET.
Under the roses, the Blue,
Under the lilies,the Gray
So with an equal splendor
The m.orning sun-rays fall,
With a touch, impartially tender,
On the blossoms blooming for all ; —
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the Judgment day; —
'Broidered with gold, the Blue;
Mellowed with gold, the Gray.
So, when the summer calleth,
On forest and field of grain,
With an equal murmur f alleth
The cooling drip of the rain; —
Under the sod and the dew.
Waiting the Judgment day; —
Wet with the rain, the Blue,-
Wet with the rain, the Gray.
Sadly, but not with upbraiding,
The generous deed was done;
In the storm of the years that are fading.
No braver battle was won; —
Under the sod and the dew.
Waiting the Judgment day-,—
Under the blossoms, the Blue;
Under the garlands, the Gray.
No more shall the war-cry sever,
Or the winding rivers be red;
They banish our anger forever
When they laurel the graves of our dead!
THE BLUE AND THE GRAY. OUR OWN. 75
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the Judgment day ; —
Love and tears for the Blue;
Tears and love for the Gray.
OUR OWN.
MRS. M. E. SANGSTER.
If I had known in the morning,
How wearily all the day
The words unkind would trouble my mind,
I said when you went away,
I had been more careful, darling.
Nor given you needless pain:
But we vex our own with look and tone
We might never take back again.
For though in the quiet evening
You may give me the kiss of peace,
Yet it might be that never for me
The pain of the heart should cease.
How many go forth in the morning
That never come home at night.
And hearts have broken for harsh words spoken,
That sorrow can ne'er set right.
Wo have careful thoughts for the stranger,
And for the sometime guest.
But oft for oui- own the bitter tone.
Though we love our own the best.
Ah! lips with the curve impatient,
Ah! brow with a look of scorn,
'Twere a cruel fate, were the night too late,
To undo the work of morn.
THE CUP BEAEER.
EMILIE CLARE.
In olden time there lived a king
For wit and wisdom much renowned —
In feasting aiid in reveling
He far surpassed all kings around.
Now it so happened, on a time
When the great lords of earth had met,
To feast o'er meats, and fume o'er wine,
It needed still one person yet, —
One all important personage,
To bear the cup with lordly grace;
When lo, a youth of tender age
Said modestly, "I'll take his place."
Well pleased, the king smiles a consent,
The youth the cup and napkin bore.
And gracefully his footsteps bent
To those who knightly honors wore,
" Well done," was passed from lip to lip!
" My son," his father said, "this thing
Was nobly done, yet you to sip
Forgot, before you gave your king."
THE CUP BEARER. 77
"Nay, I forgot no custom old,
Bat coiled within the cup, I saw
A poisonous serpent, fold on fold,
And that was why I shunned the law."
"A serpent, child! and poisonous? — why! —
How can you speak so strange and wild?"
" I saw the poisonous serpent nigh.
And shunned it," said the timid child.
" Aye! shunned it, for I saw the power
On those who drank but yesterday,
In less by far, than one short hour
Their wit and wisdom fled away.
" Some tried to dance, and some to sing,
And some to walk as vainly tried.
While you, forgetful you were king.
Mounted a broom-stick for a ride."
ei"i9
■Sv,
I'D MOURN THE HOPES.
TOM MOORE.
I'd mourn the hopes that leave me,
If thy smiles had left me too ;
I'd weeD when friends deceive me,
Hadst thou been like them untrue.
But while I've thee before me,
With heart so warm, and eyes so bright,
No clouds can linger o'er me.
That smile turns them all to light.
'Tis not in fate to harm me,
While fate leaves thy love to me;
'Tis not in joy to charm me,
Unless joy be shar'd with thee.
One minute's dream about thee
Were worth a long and endless year
Of waking bliss without thee,
My own love, my only dear !
And, though the hope be gone, love,
That long sparkled o'er our way.
Oh! we shall journey on, love.
More safely, without its ray;
78
" i'd mourn the hopes." 79
Far better light shall win me,
Along the path I've yet to roam;
The mind, that burns within me,
And pure smiles from thee at home.
Thus, when the lamp that lighted
The traveler, at first goes out
He feels awhile benighted
And looks round in fear and doubt.
But soon, the prospect clearing,
By cloudless star-light on he treads,
And thinks no lamp so cheering
As that light wliich heaven sheds !
THE OLD CHURCH BELL.
W. H. SPARKS.
[The following note accompanied the copy of the poem touud
among Colonel Spark's paper!*, says the Atlanta Const itutio)i :
'■ After an absence of thirty years, I visited my native village,
Eatonton, Putnam county, Ga., and sojourned for a, week in the
hospitable home of my boyhood's friend, Edmund Reid. On
Sabbath morning, whilst alone in my bed-room, the old church
bell commenced to ring. My heart was touched, and tears floodpd
my eyes. The tones were familiar as though I had heard them
every Sunday daring all that lapse of intervening time. With my
pencil I wrote these lines in a small memorandum book which I
carried in my pocket : "]
Ring on, ring on, sweet Sabbath bell;
Thy mellow tones I love to hear,
I was a boy, when first they fell
In melody upon mine ear;
In those dear days, long past and gone,
When sporting here in boyish glee,
The magic of thy Sabbath tone
Awoke emotions deep in me.
Long years have gone and I have strayed
Out o'er the world, far, far away.
But thy dear tones have round me played
On every lovely Sabbath day.
THE OLD CHU CII BELL. 81
When strolling o'er the mighty plains,
Spread widely in the unpeopled West,
Each Sabbath morn I've iieard thy strains
Tolling the welcome day of rest.
Upon the rocky mountain crest.
Where Christian feet have never trod,
In the deep bosom of the West
I've thought of thee and worshiped God;
Ring on, sweet bell! I've come again
To hear thy cherished call to prayer.
There's less of pleasure, now, than pain
In those dear tones which fill my ear.
Ring on, ring on, dear bell, ring on!
Once more I've come with whitened head
To hear thee toll. The sounds are gone!
And e'er this Sabbath day has sped,
I shall be gone, and may no more
Give ear to thee, sweet Sabbath bell !
Dear church and bell, so loved of yore.
And childhood's happy home, farewell!
— Eatonton, Ga-, May 18, 1S56.
V
SAD.
A SHORT TALE IN SHORT WORDS.
W. s. r.
ID you hear that sound of woe,
Ring out on the still night air ?
Did you see the mad fiend's blow
Fall on her who knelt in prayer ?
Did yoii hear the last sad moan,
As that fair one's soul was freed.
And list in vain to hear a groan
Or sigh from him who did the deed ?
Ah, see that smile of ioy and rest.
Now as she draws her last short breath.
That to her still white face is prest,
E'en while she tastes the cup of death.
I would not have you hear the curse
That from this base man's lips there fell,
Nor go to see the poor lone hearse
And grave of her with whom all's well —
But turn now to a scene more fair.
And see those two so blithe and gay;
82
SAD.
He twines a rose wi'eath in her hau*,
She smiles on him through all the day.
He plights his love, wealth, dreams of bliss.
And she pure love, fair hand, leal heart.
Their vows are sealed with faith's sweet kiss,
A high trust wrought by no rude art.
They wed; and as the years sped on,
A dark cloud came and o'er them hung;
Their vows were hid, their love was gone,
And in mute woe joy's knell was rung.
The Fiend of Drink — the curse and foe
Of man through all the flights of time —
Stole in and laid the strong youth low;
He drank, and this was all his crime.
The deeds of wrong which he has done,
All came fi'om this his first great sin,
And all his once grand traits had won
Was lost in dark wild strife and din ;
Rum is the cause of all the shame
That holds him now with bands of steel,
And when the stern Seer laid a claim
Oh what sharp pain his wife did feel !
But she is fi'eed from all her woes
AVhile he must still go down and down
Through all the shades of crime's keen throes
He sought a ban and she a crown.
The years to come will tell the tale —
Frail woi'ds cannot speak all the truth,
When Death shall come on steed so pale.
To take with him this sin- wild youth.
83
84
GEMS OF POETKY.
My brave young boys take heed I pray,
And walk not in this black crime's paili,
Walk on that high and grand straight way,
Which shuns the place of fire and wrath.
Ye bright, hopes of the yet to come,
With truth now let your feet be shod,
Strive for that blest and dear good home,
In the grand realms of our God.
^''^im»
DRIFTING.
OALISTA L. GRANT.
I stand by the river, so peacefuljy shining,
Beyond is the city I'm yearning to see;
I wait for the summons that's coming to me!
Hold me closer, my darling, and feel no repining,
We know that the p".re love our hearts now entwining,
Reaching over the river, immortal will be!
Thou fair, golden city, soon, soon, I shall find me
Thy clear jasper walls and thy pearl gates within,
Where never can enter earth's bondage and sin!
AH the world's care and pain I shall leave far behind me,
No more can my prison chains trammel and bind me,
My crown of rejoicing at last I shall win.
For I'm dying, you say, though it seems more like dreaming,
So slowly the life-tide is ebbing away, —
So slowly is fading life's lingering ray!
So long all of earth hath been idle seeming,
So long, oh, so long, have I watched for the gleaming
Of the pni'e gates that open to Heaven's pertect day.
Through the vine -curtained window the sunlight is sifting,
85
86 GEMS OF POETRY.
On the snow of the mountains the purple mist lies;
But they fade from my view, as the death -shadows rise,
And out from the earth-life my lone bark is drifting,
Through the mist and the shadow, but angels are lifting,
With invisible fingers, the gates of the skies !
A FAREWELL
Farewell ! since never more for thee
The siin comes up our eastern skies,
Less bright henceforth shall sunshine be
To some fond hearts and saddened eyes.
There are who for thy last, long sleep
Shall sleep as sweetly nevermore,
Shall weep because thou canst not weep,
And grieve that all thy griefs are o'er.
Sad thrift of love! the loving breast
On which the aching head was thrown,
Gave up the weary head to rest.
But kept the aching for its own.
FAITH.
VRANCES AITNE EEMBLE.
Better trust all and be deceived,
And weep that trust and that deceiving,
Than doubt one heart that if believed
Had blessed one's life with true believing.
0, in this mocking world too fast
The doubting fiend o'ertakes our youth;
Better be cheated to the last
Than lose the blessed hope of truth.
87
X
BED.
Our sweetest and most bitter hours are thine;
Thou by the weary frame art fondly pressed,
Wliich, grateful, blesses its most welcome shrine,
While cmses thee, pale sickness' sad unrest.
'Tis here the blushing bride receives her lord;
'Tis here the mother first beholds her child;
'Tis here death snaps affection's fondest cord, ■
And changes sunny bliss to anguish wild;
'Tis here the good man, pondering on his fate,
Beholds that bed which this doth typefy.
Made by the sexton, his frail form's estate.
Where, in long slumber, it shall dreamless lie;
And he exults, feeling in that dark sod
His robe alone will lie — the rest with God!
GILLYFLOWERS.
LD-FASHIONED, yes, I know they are,
Long exiled from the gay parterre,
And banished fi'om the boweis;
But not the fairest foreign bloom
Can match in beauty or perfnme
Those bonnv English flowers.
Their velvet petals, fold on fold.
In every shade of flaming gold.
And richest, deepest brown.
Lie close with little leaves between,
Of slender shape and tender green.
And soft as softest down.
On Sabbath mornings long ago.
When melody began to flow
From out the belfry tower,
I used to break from childish talk,
To pluck beside the garden walk
My mother's Sunday flower.
In spi'ing she loved the snow-drop wiiite,
In summer time carnations bright,
Or roses newly blown;
But this the bower she cherished most.
And from the goodly garden host
90 GEMS OF POETRY.
She chose it for her owb.
Ah, mother dear! the In'own flowers wave
In sunshine o'er thy quiet <^rave.
This morning far away;
And I sit lonely here the wliile,
Scarce knowing if to sigh or smile
Upon their sister spray.
I well could sigh, for grief is strong,
I well could smile, for love lives long.
And conquers even death;
But if I smile, or if I sigh,
God knoweth well the reason why,
And gives me broader faith.
Firm faith to feel all good is meant,
Sure hope to fill with deep content
My most despairing hours ;
And oftentimes he deigns to shed
Sweet sunshine o'er the path I tread,
As on to-day, these flowers.
And chose he not a bearer meet,
To bring for me those blossoms sweet.
A loving little child?
And child and bonny blossoms come.
Like messages of love and home,
O'er waters waste and wild.
— All the Year Bound.
92
fill
Ph
THE BROOK.
TENNYSON.
"O babbling brook," says Edmund iu his rhyme,
" Whence come you ?" and the brook, why not ? replies .
COME from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town.
And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river.
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I chatter over stony ways.
In little sharps and trebles,
T bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
94 GEMS OF POETRY.
With many a curve my banks I fret,
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river.
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river.
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.
THE BROOK. 95
I murmui' under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses:
I linger by my shingly barsj
I loiter round my cresses;
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river.
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
THKEE CHARACTERISTIC EPITAPHS.
[A Frieud who read the epitaph prepared for his own tomb by
the late Professor CHfford, was prompted to compose two others,
which, with that of the Professor, is given below.]
ATHEIST.
I was not, and I was conceived:
I lived, and did a little work;
I am not, and I grieve not.
PANTHEIST.
A drop of spray cast from the Infinite,
I hung an instant there, and threw my ray
To make the rainbow. A microcosm I,
Reflecting all. Then back I fell again:
And though I joerished not, I was no more.
CHRISTIAN.
God willed: I was. What He had planned I ^vl•ought,
That done, He called, and now I dwell with him.
V
MI BRIDE THAT IS TO BE.
J. W. RILEY.
SOUL of mine, look out aud see
My bride, my bride that is to be!
Reach out with mad, impatient hands
And draw aside futurity
As one might di-aw a veil aside,
And so unveil her where she stands
Madonna-like and glorified —
The Queen of undiscovered lands
Of love, to where she beckons me—
My bride, my bride that is to be.
The shadow of a willow tree
That wavers on a garden wall
In summer time may never fall
In attitude as gracefully
As my fair bride that is to be ;
Nor ever Autumn's leaves of brown
As lightly flutter to the lawn
As fall her fairy feet upon
The path of love she loiters down.
O'er drops of dew she walks, and yet
Not one may stain her sandal wet;
96
MY BKIDE THAT IS TO BE. 97
A.nd she might dance upon the way,
Nor crush a single drop to spray,
So airy-Hke she seems to me —
My bride, my bride that is to be.
I know not if her eyes are Hght
As summer skies, or dark as night —
I ouly know that they are dim
With mystery. In vain I peer
To make their hidden meaning cleat,
While o'er their surface, like a tear
That ripples to the silken brim,
A look of longing seems to swim.
All warm and weary -like to me;
And then, as suddenly, my sight
Is blinded with a smile so bright.
Through folded lids I still may see
My bride, my bride that is to be.
Her face is like a night of June
Upon whose brow the crescent moon
Hangs pendent in a diadem
Of stars, with envy lighting them ;
And, like a wild cascade, her hair
Floods neck and shoulder, arm and wrist,
Till only through the gleaming mist
I seem to see a siren there.
With lips of love and melody.
And open arms and heaving breast
Wherein I fling my soul to rest,
The while my heart cries hopelessly
For my fair bride that is to be.
Nay, foolish heart and blinded eyes,
My bride has need of no disguise —
98 GEMS OF POETKY.
But rather let her come to me
In such a form as bent above
My pillow when in infancy
I knew not anything but love.
Oh, let her come from out the lands
OfWomanhood — not fairy isles --
And let her come with woman's hands,
And woman's eyes of tears and smiles;
With woman's hopefulness and grace
Of patience lighting up her face;
And let her diadem be wrought
Of kindly deed and prayerful thought,
That ever over all distress
May beam the light of cheerfulness :
And let her feet be brave to fare
The labyrinths of doubt and care,
That following, my own may find
The path to heaven God designed —
Oh, let her come like this to me,
My bride, my bride that is to be.
la JI / (r>
" WHO HAS KOBBED THE OCEAN CAVE ? "
JOHN SHAW.
AVho has robbed the ocean cave,
To tinge thy lips with coral hue ?
Who, from India's distant wave,
For thee those pearly treasures drew ?
Who, from yonder orient sky.
Stole the morning of thine eye ?
Thousand charms thy form to deck,
PVom sea, and earth, and air are torn ;
Roses bloom iipon thy cheek,
On thy breath their fragrance borne:
Guard thy bosom from the day.
Lest thy snows should melt away.
But one charm remains behind,
Which mute earth could ne'er impart;
Nor in ocean wilt thou find,
Nor in the circling air, a heart:
Fairest, wouldst thou i)erfect be,
Take, oh take that heart frojn me.
9a
A PORTRAIT.
Two eyes I see whose sunny blue
Rivals the summer skies ;
Two lips whose ripe and cherry hue
With bright carnation vies;
Two rippling waves of gold brown hair,
An antique comb to keep them straight ;
A sweet and simple face most fair —
Pressed on my heart is this portrait.
TWO PICTURES.
MAKIAN DOUGLASS.
An old farm-house, with meadows wide,
And sweet with clover on each side;
A bright- eyed boy, who looks fi'om out
The door with woodbine wreathed about
And wishes his one thought all day :
" O if I could but fly away
From this dull spot the world to see,
How happy, happy, happy,
How happy I should be!"
Amid the city's constant din,
A man who round the world has been,
Who, 'mid the tumult and the throng,
Is thinking, thinking all day long, —
■ () could I only tread once more
Tlie field path to the farm house door,
The old, green meadows could I see.
How hapjiy, happy, happy.
How happy I should be! "
101
EXTRACTS FROM BURNS.'
r. G. HALLECK.
He kept his honesty and truth,
His independent tongue and pen,
And moved in manhood as in youth.
Pride of his fellow men.
Strong sense, deep feeling, passions strong,
A hate of tyrant and of knave,
A love of right, a scorn of wrong,
Of coward and of slave.
A kind, true heart, a spirit high,
That could not fear and would not bow.
Were written in his manly eye
And on his manly brow.
Praise to the bard! His words are driven,
Like flower -seeds by the far winds sown,
Where'er, beneath the sky of heaven,
The birds of fame have flown.
Praise to the man! A nation stood
Beside his cofiin with wet eyes,
102
EXTRACTS FROM "buRNS." THE NATIVITY. 103
Her brave, her beautiful, her good,
As when a loved one dies.
And still, as on his funeral day.
Men stand his cold earth-couch aroiuid,
"With the mute homage that we pay
To consecrated ground.
And consecrated ground it is.
The last, the hallowed home of one
"Who lives upon all memories,
Though with the buried gone.
Sucn graves as his are pilgrim- shrines.
Shrines to no code or creed confined, —
The Delphian vales, the Palestines,
The Meccas of the mind.
THE NATIVITY.
J. MILTON.
This is the month, and this the happy mom,
Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King,
Of wedded maid and virgin mother born,
Oar great redemption from above did bring;
For so the holy sages once did sing.
That he our daily forfeit should release,
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.
That glorious form, that light unsufferable,
104 GEMS OF POETEY.
And that far-beaming blaze of majesty,
Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-table
To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,
He laid aside, and here with ns to be.
Forsook the courts of everlasting day,
And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay.
Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein
Afford a present to the Infant-God ':'
Hast thou, no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain,
To welcome him to this his new abode,
Now while the heaven, by the sun's team untrod,
Hath took no print of the approaching light.
And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?
See, how from far, upon the eastern road.
The star- led wizards haste with odors sweet;
Oh, run, prevent them with thy humble ode.
And lay it lowly at his blessed feet;
Have thou the honor first thy Lord to greet,
And join thy voice unto the angel-choir.
From out his secret altar touch' d with hallow' d fire.
A FKEE SHOW.
WYOMING KIT.
SIT to-uight as audience to my thoughts,
Which to a panorama treat my vision
Of days long past, some bright, some bearing
blots,
Some worthy praise ; some calling forth derision !
And as the ever-changing scenes go by —
Eliciting applause or condemnation —
I bid the canvas halt, as to my eye
Appears a sscene which once caused aggravation!
It shows me in the bright sunset of youth,
Just entering the dawn of manhood's morning,
^Vhen womankind I ranked as pearls of truth.
Forever every thought of falsehood scorning!
One avalanche of beauty crossed my path.
And of my heart susceptible made capture!
Ah! who can know the joy I felt, who hath
Not likewise had a tussle with love's rapture!
I wooed her as did woo the fabled gods —
( At least as I then understood their wooing
From what I'd gleaned from books)— but what's the odds?
105
106 GEMS OF POETRY.
I wooed her, that's enough — and in my suing
I promised her — well, never mind; 'twas more
Than I could ever give from shrunken bounty!
Enough to stock the very . finest store
In this, or any other, high-toned county!
My wages vanished like a summer dream.
In little odds or ends to suit her fancy;
Crloves, handkerchiefs, confections, rides, ice-cream,
And price of opera boxes' occupancy!
My board bill swelled into enormous size !
My washerwoman threatened dire exposure!
And creditors — confound 'em — swarmed like flies.
And hinted at a possible disclosure!
And yet, my darling's smiles at all times drove
Away the morbid shade these scenes threw o'er me
The very pangs of sulphurdom, by Jove!
Would lose their terror with her smiles before me.
At last she named the happy, joyous day
When I should claim her for my own, own treasure
But just before the night she ran away
With clerk of a hotel, a gent of leisure !
Ten years have passed. I saw her yesterday
Beneath a basketful of dirty linen!
She takes in washing now! alack-a-day!
And 'pon my soul I couldn't keep from grinnin'
To see that form which once was lithe and fair,
Now weighing some two hundred pounds, or over!
And seven children, all with oreide hair.
Now greet her with the sacred name of " muvver! "
A FREE SHOW.- "till DEATH US PART." 107
Her husbaiul tumblod from his lofty grade
Aiul '• soaked " liis diamond( ?) pin for just a dollar,
With which he bought a bootblack's stock in trade
And went in partnership with gent of color!
His works now shine — from others' fancy boots!
Alas! what ending to love's glorious summer!
Bright dream of glory plucked out by the roots !
^Vho? me? — ah — um — well, I'm a genteel bummer
TILL DEATH US PART."
DEAN STANLEY.
" Till death us part,"
So speaks the heart,
When each to each repeats the words of doom;
Thro' blessing, and thro' ciirse,
For better and for worse.
We will be one till the dread hour shall come.
Life, with its myriad grasp,
Our yearning souls shall clasp.
By ceaseless love and still expectant wonder,
In bonds that shall endure,
Indissolubly sure.
Till God in death shall part our paths asunder.
Till Death us join,
O voice yet more divine!
That to the broken heart breathes hope sublime;
108 GEMS OF POETRY.
Thro' lonely hours
And shattered powers
We still are one, despite of change and time.
Death, with his healing hand.
Shall once more knit the band
Which needs but that one link which none may sever;
Till, thro' the Only Good,
Heard, felt and understood.
Our life in God shall make us one forever.
110
GEMS OF POETRY.
" A shadowy landscape dipp'd in gold."
SUNSET WITH CLOUDS.
HE earth grows dark about me,
But heaven shines clear above,
As daylight slowly melts away
With the crimson light I love;
And clouds, like floating shadows
Of every form and hue,
Hover around his dying couch.
And blush a bright adieu.
Like fiery forms of angels,
They throng around the sun —
Courtiers that on their monarch wait,
Until his course is run;
from him they take their glory;
His honor they uphold;
And trail their flowing garments forth.
Of purple, green and gold.
O bliss to gaze upon them.
From this commanding hill-,
And drink the spirit of the hour,
^Vhile all around is still ;
"While distant skies are opening
And stretching far away.
A shadowy landscape dipi)M in ":
AT CHESS.
SALLIE A. BROCK.
BOVE a checkered table they bent—
A man in his prime and a maiden fair,
Over whose polished and blue- veined brow
Rested no shadowy tinge of cai'e.
Her eyes were fountains of sapphire light;
Her lips wore the curves of cheerful thourht;
And into her gestures and into her smile
Grace and beauty their spell had fraught.
Above the checkered table they bent,
Watching the pieces, red and white,
As each moved on in appointed course
Through the mimic battle's steady fight —
The queen, in her stately, regal power;
The king, to her person fi-iendly shield;
The mitred bishop, with his support,
And the massive castle across the field;
The pawn, in his slow and cautious pace,
A step at a time ; and the mounted knight,
Vaulting, as gallant horseman of old,
To the right and left, and left and right.
But a single word the silence broke,
207
208 GEMS OF POETRY.
As they cleared aside the ruin and wreck
Of the battle's havoc; and that word
Was the little monosyllable "Check!"
Pawns, and bishops, and castles, and knights
Trembled together in sad dismay,
While a pair of hearts were pulsing beside
To a deeper, wilder, sweeter play.
Yet the gaze of each — the man and the maid —
On the board was fastened for turn of fate,
When she archly whispered, with radiant glance.
And a sparkling smile: "If you please, sir, mate
And gently her fluttering triumph- hand,
As white as a flake of purest pearl.
She laid on the crown of her victor-king,
While the other toyed with a wanton curl.
He lifted the first to his smiling lips
And on it imprinted a trembling kiss ;
And he murmured softly: " I should not care
For losing the game could I win but this!"
What the maiden answered 'twere treason to tell.
As her blushes deepened to crimson glow,
Mountmg like lightning flashes quick
Till they burned on cheeks, and ears and brow.
And in three months' time the church-bells rang,
And the parson finished the game begun.
When both wore the conqiieror's triumph -smile,
And both were happy, for both had won.
— Apj^leton's Journal.
THE SHELL.
A. TENNYSON.
See what a lovely shell,
Small and pure as a pearl,
Lying close to my foot,
Frail, but a work divine.
Made so f airily well
With delicate spire and whorl,
How exquisitely minute,
A miracle of design!
14
What is it ? a learned man
Could give it a clumsy name.
Let him name it who can,
The beauty would be the same.
The tiny cell is forlorn.
Void of the little living will
That made it stir on the shore.
Did he stand at the diamond door
Of liis house in a rainbow frill ?
Did he push, when he was uncurl'd,
A golden foot or a fairy horn
Thro' his dim water- world?
209
210
GEMS OF POETRY.
Slight, to be crush' d with a tap
Of my finger nail on the sand,
Small, but a work divine.
Frail, but of force to withstand,
Year upon year, the shock
Of cataract seas that snap
The three-decker's oaken spine
Athwart the ledges of rock
Here on the Breton strand!
A HUNDRED YEARS FROM NOW.
MKS. MARY A. FORD ("UNA.")
HE surging sea of human life forever onward
rolls,
And bears to the eternal shore its daily freigb*
of souls;
Though bravely sails our bark to-day, pale death
sits at the prow.
And few shall know we ever lived a hundred
years from now.
O mighty human brotherhood! why fiercely war and strive,
While God's great world has ample space for everything
alive ?
Broad fields, uncultured and unclaimed, are waiting for the
plow
Of progress that shall make them bloom a hundred years
from now.
Why should we try so earnestly in life's short narrow span,
On golden stairs to climb so high above our brother man ?
Why blindly at an earthly shrine in slavish homage bow?
Our gold will rust, ourselves be dust, a hundred years frorc
now!
211
212 GEMS OF POETRY.
^Vhy prize so much the world's aj^plause? AVhy dread so
much its blame?
A fleeting echo is its voice of censure or of fame;
The praise that ■frills the heart, the scorn that dyes with
shame the brow,
Will be as long-forgotten dreams a hundred years from now.
O patient hearts, that meekly bear your weary load of wrong I
O earnest hearts, that bravely dai'e, and, striving, grow more
strong !
Press on till perfect peace is won; you'll never dream of how
You struggled o'er life's thorny road a hundred years from
now.
Grand, lofty souls, who live and toil that freedom, right and
truth
Alone may rule the universe, for you is endless youth;
When 'mid the blest, with God you rest, the grateful lands
shall bow
Above your clay in rev'i'ent love a hundred years from now.
Earth's empires rise and fall, O Time! like breakers on thy
shore ;
They rush upon thy rocks of doom, go down, and are no
more ;
The starry wilderness of worlds that gem night's radiant
brow
Will light the skies for other eyes a hundred years from now.
Our Father, to whose sleepless eyes the past and future
stand
An open page, like babes we cling to thy protecting hand,
Change, sorrow, death are naught to us if we may safely bow
Beneath the shadow of Thy throne, a hundred years from
now.
CHRISTMAS CHIMES.
VARIOUS AUTHORS.
Rise, happy morn, rise, holy morn,
Draw forth the cheerful day from night;
O Father, touch the east, and light
The light that shone when Hope was born.
— Tennyson.
This day
Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.
— Shakspere.
Light on thy hills, Jerusalem!
The Savior now is born!
And bright on Bethlehem's joyous plains
Breaks the first Christmas morn.
— E. H. Sears.
This happy day, whose risen sun
Shall set not through eternity;
This holy day when Christ, the Lord,
Took on Him our humanity.
PHERE CAKY.
213
214 GEMS OF POETRY.
Immortal Babe, who this dear day,
Didst change Thine Heaven for our clay,
And didst with flesh thy God- head veil,
Eternal Son of God, all hail!
— Bishop Hall.
There's a song in the air, there's a star in the sky,
There's a mother's deep prayer, and a baby's low cry,
And the star rains its fire while the beautiful sing,
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a king.
— JosiAH Gilbert Holland.
With gentle deeds and kindly thoughts
And loving words, withal,
Welcome the merry Christmas in,
And hear a brother's call.
— F. Lawrence.
But the star that shines in Bethlehem
Shines still, and shall not cease,
And we listen still to the tidings
Of glory and of peace.
— Adelaide A. Procter.
Who taught mankind on that first Christmas day,
What 'twas to be a man; to give, not take;
To serve, not rule; to nourish, not devour;
To help, not crush ; if need, to die, not live ?
— C. Kingsley.
The poor will many a care forget,
The debtor think not of his debt.
But as they each enjoy their cheer.
Wish that 'twere Christmas all the year.
— Thomas Miller.
CHRISTMAS CHIMES. 215
'Twas Christmiis l)rf)achecl the mightiest ale;
'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man's heart through half the year.
— Sir Walter Scott.
As fits the holy Christmas birth,
Be this, good friends, our carol still —
Be peace on earth, be peace on earth,
To men of gentle will.
— W. M. Thackeray.
A" SONG OF HOME.
EMILY C. H. MILLEK.
LL day in the deepening sunlight
The tops of the mountain glow,
All night the white waves of the moonlight
Roll down to the valleys below.
I sit by my window and listen
To the voice of the whispering breeze,
As it bears me the breath of the clover,
And the murmurous hum of the bees.
But away over meadow and upland,
A thousand swift fancies have flown,
To see how around the old homestead
The glory of summer has shone.
I see it again in my di'eaming;
The twilight is heavy and deep,
And across the green fields of the barley
The night- winds come wooing to sleep,
I can hear through the hush how the water
Goes chiming along by the mill,
With a tune that begins at the sunset,
216
A SONG OF HOME. 217
When the sound of the grinding is still.
O sweet as a mothers low singing
To the baby asleep on her breast,
Kings out that soft song of the water,
When the twilight di'ops down from the west!
How white through the boughs of the maple
Gleams out the low cottage I love,
With the moonlight asleep on the threshold,
And the stars keeping vigils above!
vVll hushed! but I know by the hearth stone
They knelt at the nightfall to pray.
And remembered with fond benediction
The loved who have wandered away.'
And one hath no need of their praying,
For once, when the summer was bright,
She passed through the valley of shadow
To the gates of the city of light.
And kneeling alone with our sorrow —
Alone on that sorrowful shore,
We wept when we thought how her footsteps
Would never come back any more.
For the brows that eternity crowneth
May never be saddened by woe.
And the lips that have sung with the angels
Are silent forever below.
v
"WHEN THE SONG'S GONE."
[''When the song's gone out of your life, you can't start another
while it's a-ringiug in your ears, but it's best to have a bit of silence^
and out o' that maybe a psalm'll come hy-aiid.-hy."-Edivard
Gannett.
HEN the song's gone ont of your life,
That yon thought would last to the end-
That lirst sweet song of the heart,
That no after days can lend —
The song of the birds to the trees,
The song of the wind to the flowers,
The song that the heart sings low to itself
When it wakes in life's morning hours.
u You can start no other song,"
Not even a tremulous note
Will falter forth on the empty air,
It dies in your aching throat.
It i.4 all in vain that you try.
For the spirit of song has fled —
The nightingale sings no more to the rose
When the beautiful flower is dead.
So let silence softly fall
On the bruised heart's quivering strings;
Perhaps from the loss of all
"when the song's gone." MUSIC.
219
You may learn the song that the seraph sings;
A grand and glorious psalm
That will tremble, and rise and thrill,
And till yoiar breast with its grateful rest,
And its lonely yearnings still.
— Bosto7i Transcript.
THE DEPARTURE OF THE SWALLOW.
x
WILLIAM HOWITT
ND is the swallow gone ?
Who beheld it?
Which way sailed it?
%ifffk ictrewell bade it rone?
iso mortal saw it go; —
But who doth hear
Its summer cheer
As it flitteth to and fro ?
So the freed spirit flies !
From its surrounding clay
It steals away
Like the swallow from the skies.
Whither ? wherefore doth it go ?
'Tis all unknown;
We feel alone
That a void is left below
1^
THE BKIDGE.
H. W. LONGFELLOW.
[By permission of Houghton, Mifflin & Co.]
STOOD on the bridge at midnight,
As the clocks were striking the horn*,
And the moon rose o'er the city,
Behind the dark church-tower.
I saw her bright reflection
In the waters under me.
Like a golden goblet falling
And sinking into the sea.
And far in the hazy distance
Of that lovely night in June,
The blaze of the flaming furnace
Gleamed redder than the moon.
Among the long, black rafters
The wavering shadows lay,
And the current that came from the ocean
Seemed to lift and bear them away;
As, sweeping and eddying through them,
Rose the belated tide,
222 GEMS OF POETRY.
And, streaming into the moonlight,
The sea-weed floated wide.
And like those waters rushing
Among the wooden piers,
A flood of thoughts came o'er me
That filled my eyes with tears.
How often, O how often,
In the days that had gone by,
I had stood on that bridge at midnight,
And gazed on that wave and sky!
How often, O how often,
I had wished that the ebbing tide
Would bear me away on its bosom
O'er the ocean wild and wide!
For my heart was hot and restless,
And my life was full of care.
And the burden laid upon me
Seemed greater than I could bear.
But now it has fallen from me.
It is buried in the sea;
And only the sorrow of others
Throws its shadow over me.
Yet whenever I cross the river
On its bridge with wooden piers,
Like the odor of brine from the ocean
Comes the thought of other years.
And I think how many thousands
Of care-encumbered men,
THE BRIDGE. 223
Each bearing his burden of sorrow,
Have crossed the bridge since then.
I see the long procession
Still passing to and fro,
The young heart hot and restless.
And the old subdued and slow!
And forever and forever,
As long as the river flows,
As long as the heart has passions,
As long as life has woes;
The moon and its broken reflection
And its shadows shall appear,
As the symbol of love in heaven,
And its wavering image here.
,^.5fy^
X
NEVER FAILED US.
Upon the sadness of the sea,
The sunset broods regretfully;
From the far, lonely spaces, slow
Withdraws the wistful afterglow.
So out of life the splendor dies;
So darken all the happy skies ;
So gathers twilight, cold and stern,
But overhead the planets burn;
And up the east another day
Shall chase the bitter dark away ;
What though oiir eyes with tears be wet ?
The sunrise never failed us yet.
The blush of dawn may yet restore
Our light and hope and joy once more:
Sad soul, take comfort, nor forget
That sunrise never failed us yet.
SONGS.
SHAKSPERE.
arietj s song.
HERE the bee sucks, there kirk I;
In a cowslip's bell I lie;
, There I couch when owls do cry,
,, On the bat's back I do fly.
SJr^/' After summer merrily,
Merrily, merrily, shall I live now..
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
THE FAIRY TO PUCK.
Over hill, over dale,
Tliorough bush, thoroufjh brier,
Over park, over pale.
Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon's sphere.
And I serve the Fairy Queen;
To dew her orbs upon the green ;
The cowslips tall her pensioners be,
In their gold coats spots you see, —
Those be rubies, fairy favors ;
In those freckles live their savors.
15 225
'226 GEMS OF POETRY.
I must go seek some dew-drops liere.
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
AMIENS S SONG.
Blo■vv>^blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen.
Although thy breath be rude.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky.
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remembered not.
hark! hark! the lark!
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise.
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies ;
And winking Mary buds begin
To ope their golden eyes;
With everything that pretty bin;
My lady sweet, arise.
UNDER the GREENWOOD-TREE.
Under the greenwood-tree
Who loves to lie with me, ^
And tune his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat.
Come hither, come hither, come hither;
SONGS.
Here shall he see
No enemy,
But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And ]:)leased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Here shall he see
No enemy,
But winter and roiijih weather.
^v£A^
X
THE SABBATH OF THE SOUL.
MES. ANNA L. BARBAULD.
Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares,
Of earth and folly born;
Ye shall not dim the light that streams
From this celestial morn.
To-morrow will be time enough
To feel your harsh control ;
Ye shall not violate, this day,
The Sabbath of my soul.
Sleep, sleep forever, guilty thoughts ;
Let fires of vengeance die;
And, purged from sin, may I behold
A God of purity !
228
THE BOWER OF BLISS.
E. SPENSER.
HERE the most dainty paradise on gronnd
Itself doth offer to his sober eye,
'4 In which all pleasures plenteonsly abounJ!,
And none does others' happiness envy;
The painted flowers, the trees iTpsliooting
high,
The dales for shade, the hills for breathing
space.
The trembling groves, the crystal running by,
And that which all fair works doth most aggrace,
The art. which all that wrought, appeared in no jilace.
One would have thought (so cunningly the rude
And sconied parts were mingled with the line)
That nature had for wantonness ensued
Art, and that art at nature did repine;
So striving each the other to undermine.
Each did the other's work more beautify;
So differing both in wills, agreed in fine:
So all agreed thi'ough sweet diversity,
This garden to adorn with all variety.
229
230 GEMS OF POETRY.
Eftsoons they heard a most melodious sound,
Of all that might delight a dainty ear,
Such as at once might not on living ground,
Save in this paradise be heard elsewhere:
Right hard it wa^s for wight which did it hear,
To read what manner music that might be:
For all that pleasing is to living ear,
Was there consorted in one harmony;
Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree.
The joyous birds, shrouded in cheerful shade,
Their notes unto the voice attempered sweet;
The angelical soft trembling voices made
To the instruments divine respondence meet;
The silver sounding instruments did meet
With the base murmur of the water's fall:
The water's fall with difference discreet,
Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did Co,ll:
The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.
NATURE'S HYMNS.
J. G. WHITTIER.
[By permission of Houghtoo, Mifflin & Co.]
And to her voice the solemn ocean lent,
Touching' its harp of sand, a deep accompaniment.
i^(^^-f HE harp at Natiire's advent strung
Has never ceased to play;
The song the stard of morning sung
Has never died away.
And prayer is made, and praise is given,
By all things near and far;
The ocean looketh xip to heaven,
And mirrors every star.
Its waves are kneeling on the strand,
As kneels the human knee,
Their white locks bowing to the sand,
The ])riesthood of the sea!
They pour their glittering treasures forth.
Their gifts of pearl they bring.
And all the listening hills of earth
Take up the song they sing.
232 GEMS OF POETRY.
The green earth sends her incense up
From many a mountain shi'ine;
From folded leaf and dewy cup
She pours her sacred wine.
The mists afeove the morning rills
Rise white as wings of prayer;
The altar-curtains of the hills
Are sunset's purple air.
The winds with hymns of praise are loud,
Or low with sobs of pain, —
The thunder-organ of the cloud.
The dropping tears of rain.
With drooping head and branches crossed
The twilight forest grieves,
Or speaks with tongues of Pentecost
From all its sunlit leaves.
The blue sky is the temple's arch,
Its transept earth and air,
The music of its starry march
The chorus of a prayer.
So Nature keeps the reverent fi'ame
With which her years began.
And all her signs and voices shame
The prayerless heart of man.
MAJESTY OF GOD.
T. STERNHOLD.
Tho Lord descended from alcove,
And bowed the heavens most hif^h,
And underneath liis feet he cast
Tho darkness of the sky.
On cherubim and serapliim
Full royally he rode,
And on the win^s of mighty winds
Came Hying all abroad.
He sat serene upon the floods.
Their fury to restrain;
And he, as sovereign Lord and King,
For evermore shall reign.
Give glory to his awful name,
And honor him alone;
Give worship to his majesty,
Upon his holy throne.
v
"NO, NOT MORE WELCOME."
TOM MOORE.
No, not more welcome the fairy numbers
Of music fall on the sleeper's ear,
When, half -awaking from fearful slumbers,
He thinks the full choir of heaven is near, —
Than came that voice, when all forsaken,
This heart long had sleeping lain.
Nor thought its cold pulse would ever waken
To such benign, blessed sounds again.
Sweet voice of comfort! 'twas like the stealing
Of summer wind thro' some wreathed shell;
Each secret winding, each inmost feeling
Of all my soul echoed to its spell!
'Twas whisper'd balm — 'twas sunshine spoken !
I'd live years of grief and pain,
To have my long sleep of son'ow broken
By such benign, blessed sounds again.
tiA
BEAUTIFUL HANDS.
MRS. ELLEN H. GATES.
[UCH beautiful, beautiful hands,
They're neither white nor small,
And you, I know, would scarcely think
That they were fair at all ;
I've looked on hands in form and hue
A sculptor's dream might be,
Yet are these aged, wrinkled hands
Most beautiful to me.
Such beautiful, beautiful hands;
Tho' heart was weary and sad.
These patient hands kept toiling on
That the children might be glad;
I often weep, as looking back,
To childhood's distant day,
I think how these hands rested not
When mine were at their play.
Such beautiful, beautiful hands,
They're growing feeble now.
And time and toil have left their mark
On hand, and heart, and brow;
236 GEMS OF POETKT.
Alas, alas ! the nearing time,
The sad, sad day to me,
When 'neath the daisies, cold and white,
These hands will folded be.
But O^beyond these shadowy lands,
Where all is bright and fair,
I know full well these dear old hands
Will palms of victory bear;
Where crystal streams thro' endless years
Flow over golden sands.
And where the old grow young again,
I'll clasp my mother's hands.
UNDER MILTON'S PICTURE.
J. DRYDEN.
Three Poets, in three distant ages born,
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn.
The first in loftiness of thought surpassed;
The next in majesty; m both the last.
The force of Nature could no further go;
To make a third, she joined the former two.
WOMAN'S VOICE.
EDWIN ARNOLD.
— ^" • '"" ■,|!0T in the swaying of the summer trees,
When evening breezes sing their vesper hymn —
Not in the minstrel's mighty symphonies,
Nor ripples breaking on the river's brim,
Is earth's best music; these may leave aAvhile
High thoughts in happy hearts, and carking
cares beguile.
But even as the swallow's silken wings.
Skimming the water of the sleeping lake.
Stir the still silver with a hundred rings—
So doth one sound the sleeping spirit wake
To brave the danger and to bear the harm —
A low and gentle voice — dear woman's chief est charm.
An excellent thing it is ! and ever lent
To truth, and love, and meekness; they who own
This gift by the all gracious Giver sent.
Ever by quiet step and smile are known:
By kind eyes that have wept, hearts that have sorrow' d—
By patience never tired, from their own trials borrow'd.
237
288 GEMS OF POETRY.
An excellent thing it is — when first in gladness
A mother looks into her infant's eyes —
Smiles to its smiles, and saddens at its sadness —
Pales at its paleness, sorrows at its cries;
Its food an4 sleep, and smiles and little joys —
All these come ever blent with one low, gentle voice.
An excellent thing it is when life is leaving —
Leaving with gloom and gladness, joys and cares —
The strong heart failing, and the high soul grieving
With strongest thoughts, and wild, unwonted fears;
Then, then, a woman's low, soft sympathy
Comes like* an angel's voice to teach us how to die.
But a most excellent thing it is in youth,
When the fond lover hears the loved one's tone.
That fears, but longs, to syllable the truth —
How their two hearts are oue, and she his own;
It makes sweet human music — oh! the spells
That haunt the trembling tale a bright-eyed maiden tella
WE SHALL KNOW.
ANNIE HERBERT.
HEN the mists have rolled in splendor
From the beauty of the hills,
And the sunshine, warm and tender,
Falls in kisses on the rills.
We may read love's shining letter
In the rainbow of the spray, —
We shall know each other better
"When the mists have cleared away.
If we err, in human blindness,
And forget that we are dust;
If we miss the law of kindness
When we struggle to be just.
Snowy wings of j)eace shall cover
All the plain that hides away, —
When the weaiy watch is over,
And the mists have cleared away.
When the mists have risen above us,
As our Father knows his own,
Face to face with those that love us.
We shall know as we are known;
239
240 GEMS OF POETRY.
Love, beyond the orient meadows
Floats the golden fringe of day,
Heart to heart, we bide the shadows,
Till the mists have cleared away.
We shall know as we are known,
Nevermore to walk alone.
In the dawning of the morning,
When the mists have cleared away.
LIGHT AFTER DARKNESS.
Light after darkness,
Gain after loss,
Strength after weakness,
Crown after cross,
Sweet after bittei-.
Song after fears,
Home after wandering,
Praise after tears.
Sheaves after sowing,
Sun after rain.
Light after mystery,
Peace after pain,
Joy after sorrow,
Cahn after blast.
Rest after weariness.
Sweet rest at last.
Near after distant,
Gleam after gloom.
Love after loneliness.
Life after tomb;
After long agony.
Rapture of bliss;
Right was the pathway
Leading to this!
16 241
V
THE FREE MIND.
W. L. GARRISON.
High walls and huge the body may confine,
And iron gates obstruct the prisoner's gaze,
And massive bolts may baffle his design,
And vigilant keepers watch his devious ways:
Yet scorns the immortal mind this base control !
No chains can bind it, and no cell inclose:
Swifter than light, it flies from pole to pole,
And in a flash from earth to heaven it goes!
It leaps from mount to mount; from vale to vale
It wanders, plucking honeyed fruits and flowers;
It visits home, to hear the fireside tale,
Or, in sweet converse, pass the joyous hours.
'Tis up before the sun, roaming afar,
And, in its watches, wearies every star!
THE PRIDE OF BATTERY B.
OUTH Mountain towered upon our right, far off
the river lay;
And over on the M^ooded hight we held their
lines at bay.
At last the muttering guns were still ; the day
died slow and wan.
At last the gunners' pipes did fill, the sargeant's
yarns began.
When, as the wind a moment blew aside the fragrant flood
Our briarwoods raised, within our view a little maiden
stood.
A tiny tot of six or seven, from fireside fresh she seemed,
(Of such a little one in heaven one soldier often dreamed.)
And as we stared her little hand went to her curly head
In grave salute: " And who are you?" at length the sargeant
said.
"And Where's your home?" he growled again. She lisped
out "Who is me ?
Why, don't you know ? I'm little Jane, the Pride of Bat-
tery B.
243
244 GEMS OF POETRY.
"My home ? Why, that was burned away, and Pa and Ma
are dead.
And so I ride the guns all day along with Sargeant Ned.
"And I've a drum that's not a toy, a cap with feathers, too,
And I march beside the drummer boy on Sundays at re-
view.
"But now our 'bacca's all give out, the men can't have
their smoke.
And so they're cross — why, even Ned won't play with me
and joke.
"And the big colonel said to-day — I hate to hear him
swear —
He'd give a leg for a good pipe like the Yank had over
there ;
"And so I thought when beat the drum and the big guns
were still,
I'd creep beneath the tent and come out here across the
hill
''And beg, good mister Yankee man, you'd give me some
Lone Jack;
Please do — when we get some again I'll surely bring it
back.
"Indeed I will, for Ned — says he — 'if I do what I say,
I'll be a general yet, maybe, and ride a prancing bay.' "
We brimmed her tiny apron o'er; you should have heard
her laugh
As each man from his scanty store shook out a generous
half.
THU PRIDE OF BATTERY B. 245
To kiss the little mouth stooped down a score of grimy
men,
Until the sargeant's husky voice said '"Tention squad," and,
then
We gave her escort, till good- night the pretty waif we bid
And watched her toddle out of sight — or else 'twas tears
that hid
Her tiny form — nor turned about a man, nor spoke a woi'd
Till after awhile a far, hoarse shout upon the wind we
heard;
We sent it back, and cast sad eyes on the scene around;
A baby's hand had touched the ties that brothers once had
bound.
That's all — save when the dawn awoke again the work of
hell,
And through the sullen clouds of smoke the screaming
missiles fell.
Our General often rubbed his glass, and marveled much to
see
Not a single shell that whole day fell in the camp of Bat-
tery B.
■v.
A LOVE SONG.
A. P. GRAVES.
Ah! swan of slenderness, dove of tenderness,
Jewel of joys, arise !
The little red lark, like a rosy spark,
Unto his sunburst flies.
But till you are risen, earth is a prison.
Full of my captive sighs.
Then wake, and discover to your fond lover
The morn of your matchless eyes.
The dawn is dark to me; hark, oh! hark to me,
Pulse of my heart, I pray,
And gently gliding out of thy hiding.
Dazzle me with thy day!
And oh! I'll fly to thee, singing, and sigh to thee,
Passion so sweet and gay,
The lark shall listen, and dewdrops glisten.
Laughing on every spray.
246
THE SOURCE OF HAPPINESS.
C. WILCOX.
Wouldst tliou from sorrow find a sweet relief ?
Or is thy heart oppressed with woes untold?
Balm wouldst thou gather for corroding grief ?
Pour blessings round thee like a shower of gold. —
'Tis when the rose is wrapped in many a fold
Close to its heart, the worm is wasting there
Its life and beauty; not when, all unrolled.
Leaf after leaf, its bosom, rich and fair.
Breathes freely its perfumes throughout the ambient air.
House to some work of high and holy love.
And thou an angel's happiness shalt know, —
Shalt bless the earth while in the world above;
The good begun by thoe shall onward flow
In many a branching stream, and wider grow;
The seed that, in these few and fleeting hours.
Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow.
Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers,
And yield thee fruits divine in heaven's immortal bowers.
M7
X
THE MYSTEEIOUS MUSIC OF OCEAN.
ONELY and wild it rose,
That strain of solemn music from the sea,
As thongh the bright air trembled to disclose
An ocean mystery.
Again a low, sweet tone,
Fainting in murmurs on the listening day,
Just bade the excited thought its presence own,
Then died away.
Once more the gush of sound.
Struggling and swelling from the heaving plain,
Thrilled a rich peal triumphantly around,
And fled again.
O boundless deep! we know
Thou hast strange wonders in thy gloom concealed.
Gems, flashing gems, from whose unearthly glow
Sunlight is sealed.
And an eternal spring
Showers her rich colors with unsparing hand.
Where coral trees their graceful branches fling
O'er golden sand.
248
THE MYSTERIOUS MUSIC OF OCEAN 24^
But tell, O restless main!
Who are the dwellers in thy world beneath,
That thns the watery realm cannot contain
The joy they breathe ?
Emblem of glorions might!
Are thy wild children like thyself arrayed.
Strong in immortal and unchecked delight,
Which cannot fade ?
Or to mankind allied.
Toiling with wo, and passion's fiery sting.
Like their own home, where storms or peace preside,
As the winds bring?
Alas for human thought !
How does it flee existence, worn and old.
To win companionship with beings wrought
Of finer mold !
'Tis vain the reckless waves
Join with loud revel the dim ages flown,
But keep each secret of their hidden caves
Dark and unknown.
— Walsh's National Oazette.
v
SPKING.
N. P. WILLIS.
HE Spring is here — the deHcate- footed May,
With its sHght fingers full of leaves and
flowers;
And with it conies a thirst to be away,
Wasting in wood- paths its voluptuous hours —
A feeling that is like a sense of wings,
Restless to soar above these perishing things.
We pass out from the city's feverish hum,
To find refreshment in the silent woods ;
And nature, that is beautiful and dumb,
Like a cool sleep upon the pulses broods.
Yet, even there, a restless thought will steal,
To teach the indolent heart it still mnstjee/.
Strange, that the audible stillness of the noon.
The waters tripping with their silver feet.
The turning to the light of leaves in June,
And the light whisper as their edges meet —
Strange — that they fill not, with their tranquil tone.
The spirit, walking in their midst alone.
There's no contentment, in a world like this,
Save in forgetting the immortal dream;
2oO
SPRING.
251
Wo may not gaze upon the stars of bliss,
That through the cloud- rifts radiantly stream;
Bird-like, the prisoned soul -will lift its eye
And sing — till it is hooded from the sky.
x
ON THE DEATH OF J. R. DRAKE.
F. G. HALLECK.
Green be the turf above thee,
Friend of my better days!
None knew thee but to love thee,
Nor named thee but to praise.
Tears fell, vv^hen thou wert dying.
From eyes unused to weep.
And long, where thou art lying.
Will tears the cold turf steep.
When hearts, whose truth was jn-oven.
Like thine, are laid in earth,
There should a wreath be woven
To tell the world their worth.
And I, who woke each morrow,
To clasp thy hand in mine,
^Vho shared thy joy and sorrow.
Whose weal and wo were thine, —
It should be mine to braid it
Around thy faded brow;
But I've in vain essayed it,
And feel I cannot now.
252
ON THE DEATH OF J. K. DRAKE.
"While memory bids me weep thee,
Nor thoughts nor words are free,
The grief is fixed too deeply
That mourns a man like thee.
253
v
THANATOPSIS.
W. C. BRYANT.
[Thanatopsis— one of the first and best poems of tbe American
Homer— was published in 1817, in the North American Review,
and at once attracted the merited attention which has never abat-
ed. This "Hymn of Death" is as subHme and beautiful as a
Himalayan peak bathed in the rays of the rising sun. The follow-
ing verses were prefixed to Thanatopsis at first:]
OT that from life, and all its woes,
The hand of death shall set me free;
Not that this head shall then repose,
In the low vale, most peacefully.
"Ah, when I touch time's farthest brink,
A kinder solace must attend;
It chills my very soul to think
On that dread hour when life must end.
" In vain the flattering verse may breathe
Of ease from pain, and rest from strife;
There is a sacred dread of death.
Inwoven with the strings of life.
"This bitter cup at fii'st was given,
When angry Justice frowned severe;
264
THANATOPSIS. 255
And 'tis the eternal doom of Heaven,
That man must view the grave with fear."
To him who, in the love of Nature, holds
Communion with her visible fortis, she speaks
A various language. For his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides
Into his darker musings with a mild
And gentle sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall.
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and gi'ow sick at heart, —
Go forth unto the open sky, and list
To nature's teachings, while from all around —
Eai*th and her waters, and the depths of air —
Comes a still voice— Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course. Nor yet in the cold ground,
AVliere thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocoan, shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again;
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix forever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mc.ld.
256
GEMS OF POETRY.
Yet not to thy eternal resting-place
Shalt thou retire alone; nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings
The powerful of the ^rth— the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills,
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun; the vales,
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods ; rivers that move
In majesty; and the complaining brooks,
That make the meadow green; and, poured round all.
Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, —
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun.
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death.
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings
Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce ;
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound,
Save his own dashings; yet — the dead are there;
And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep —the dead reign there alone.
So shalt thou rest; and what if thou shalt fall
Unnoticed by the living, and no friend
Take note of thy departure ? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase
THA^ATOPSIS. 257
His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Tboir mirth and their employments, and shall come,
And make thoir bed Avith thee. As the long train
Of ages glide away, the sons of men,
The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron, and maid,
The bowed with age, the infant, in the smiles
And beauty of its innocent age cut off, —
Shall, one by one, bo gathered to thy side,
By those, who, in their turn, shall follow them.
So live, that, when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, that moves
To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death.
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night.
Scourged to his dungeon ; but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
v
DAVID'S LAMENT OVER ABSALOM.
N. P. WILLIS.
HE soldiers of the king trod to and fro,
y^ Clad in the garb of battle; and their chief,
|- The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier.
And gazed upon the dark pall steadfastly,
... As if he feared the slumberer might stir.
A slow stejj startled him. He grasped his blade
As if a trumpet rang; but the bent form
Of David entered, and he gave command.
In a low tone, to his few followers.
And left him with his dead. The king stood still
Till the last echo died: then, throwing off
The sackcloth from his brow, and layiiig back
The pall from the still features of his child,
He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth
In the resistless eloquence of wo: —
'•Alas! my noble boy! that thou should'st die!
Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair !
That death should settle in thy glorious eye,
And leave his stillness in this clustering hair!
How could he mark thee for the silent tomb i
My proud boy Absalom!
258
David's lament over absalom. 259
" Cold is thy brow, my sou ! and I am chill,
As to my bosom I have tried to press thee.
How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill,
Like a rich harp -string, yearning to caress thee,
And hear thy sweet '■'' my father,^'' from these dumb
And cold lips, Absalom!
" The gi-ave hath won thee. I shall hear the gush
Of music, and the voices of the young;
And life will pass me in the mantling blush,
And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung; —
But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come
To meet me, Absalom!
"And, oh! when I am stricken, and my heart,
Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken,
How will its love for thee, as I depart,
Yearn for thine ear to di-ink its last deep token!
It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom,
To see thee, Absalom!
" And now, farewell! 'Tis hard to give thee up,
With death so like a gentle slumber on thee: —
And thy dark sin! — Oh! I could drink the cup,
If from this wo its bitterness had won thee.
May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home,
My erring Absalom!"
He covered up his face, and bowed himself
A moment on his child: then, giving him
A look of melting tenderness, he clasped
His hands convulsively, as if in prayer;
And, as a strength were given him of God,
He rose up calmly, and composed the pall
260 GEMS OF POETRY.
Firmly and decently, and left him there,
As if his rest had been a breathing sleep.
TO THE LADY ANNE HAMILTON.
W. R. SPENCER.
Too late I stayed, forgive the crime.
Unheeded flew the hours;
How noiseless falls the foot of Time
That only treads on flowers!
What eye with clear account remarks
The ebbing of his glass,
When all its sands are diamond sparks
That dazzle as they pass !
Ah! who to sober measurement
Time's happy swiftness brings,
When birds of Paradise have lent
Their plumage to its wings ?
THE WINGED WOKSHIPERS,
C. SPKAGUE.
AY, guiltless pair,
What seek ye from the fields of heaven ?
Ye have no need of prayer,
Ye have no sins to be forgiven.
Why perch ye here,
Where mortals to their Maker bend?
Can your pure spirits fear
The God ye never could offend ?
Ye never knew
The crimes for which we come to weep:
Penance is not for you,
Blessed wanderers of the upper deep.
To you 'tis given
To wake sweet nature's untaught lays;
Beneath the arch of heaven
To chirp away a life of praise.
Then spread each wing.
Far, far above, o'er lakes and lands,
And join the choirs that sing
In yon blue dome not reared with hands.
261
262 GEMS OF POETRY.
Or, if ye stay,
To note the consecrated hour,
Teach me the airy way,
And let me try your envied power.
Above the crowd.
On upward wings could I but fly,
I'd bathe in yon bright cloud,
And seek the stars that gem the sky.
'Twere heaven indeed.
Through fields of trackless light to soar,
On nature's charms to feed,
And nature's own great God adore.
3^
THE ISLE OF THE LONG AGO.
BENJ. F. TAYLOR.
[By permission of S. C Griggs & Co.l
A WONDERFUL stream is the river Time,
As it runs through the realm of tears,
With a faultless rhythm and a musical rhyme,
And a boundless sweep and a surge sublime.
As it blends with the ocean of years.
How the winters are di'ifting, like flakes of snow,
And the summers like buds between.
And the year in the sheaf, -so they come and they go,
On the river's breast, with its ebb and flow,
As it glides in the shadow and sheen.
There 's a magical Isle up the river Time,
Where the softest of airs are playing;
There's a cloudless sky and a tropical chme,
And a song as sweet as a vesper chime.
And the Junes with the roses are straying.
And the name of that Isle is the Long Ago,
And we bury our treasures there;
There are brows of beauty and bosoms of snow ',
There are heaps of dust — but we loved them so!
There are trinkets and tresses of hair;
2G3
264 GEMS OF POETRY.
There are fragments of song that nobody sings,
And a part of an infant's prayer;
There's a kite unswept, and a harp without strings;
There are broken vows and pieces of rings,
And the g9,rments that she used to wear.
There are hands that are waved when the fairy shore
By the Mirage is Hfted in air,
And we sometimes hear through the turbulent roar
Sweet voices we heard in the days gone before,
When the wind down the river is fair.
O remember' d for aye, be the blessed Isle,
All the day of our life until night;
When the evening comes with its beautiful smile,
And our eyes are closing to slumber awhile,
May that "Greenwood" of soul be in sight!
THEEE COMES A TIME.
There comes a time, or soon or late,
When every word unkindly spoken,
Returns with all the force of fate,
To bear reproof from spirits broken.
Who slumber in that tranquil rest,
Which waking cares no more molest.
Oh! were the wealth of worMs our own,
We freely would the treasures yield,
If eyes that here their last have shone,
If lips m endless silence sealed.
One look of love o'er us might cast,
Might breathe forgiveness to the past.
When anger arms the thoughtless tongue.
To wound the feelings of a friend,
Oh! think ere yet his heait be wrung,
In what remorse thy wrath may end;
Withhold to-day the words of hate,
To-morrow it may be too late.
266
■■V.
A WISH.
S. ROGERS.
Mine be a cot beside the hill;
A bee -hive's hum shall soothe mine ear;
A willowy brook that turns a mill,
With many a fall shall linger near.
The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch
Shall twitter from her clay built nest;
Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch,
And share my meal, a welcome guest.
Around my ivied porch shall spring
Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew;
And Lucy, at her wheel, shall sing
In russet gown and apron blue.
The village -church among the trees,
Where first our marriage vows were given,
With merry peals shall swell the breeze.
And point with taper spire to heaven.
266
'MlJj^
LINES WRITTEN WHILE SAILING IN A BOAT
AT EVENING.
W. WORDSWORTH.
How richly glows the water's breast
Before us, tinged with evening hues,
While facing thus the crimson west,
The boat her silent course pursues !
And see how dark the backward stream!
A little moment past so smiling !
And still, perhaps, with faithless gleam,
Some other loiterers beguiling.
Such views the youthful bard allure ;
Butjheedless of the following gloom.
He deems their colors shall endure
Till peace go with him to the tomb.
And let him nui'se his fond deceit,
And what if he must die in sorrow!
Who would not cherish di'eams so sweet.
Though grief and pain may come to-morrow!
■V
WHO WILL CARE.
Who will care ?
When we lay beneath the daisies,
Underneath the churchyard mold,
And the long grass o'er oxir faces
Lays its fingers damp and cold ;
^Vhen we sleep from care and sorrow,
And the ills of earthly life —
Sleep, to know no sad to-morrow,
With its bitterness of strife —
Who will care ?
Who will care ?
Who will come to weep above us,
Lying, oh! so white and still.
Underneath the skies of svimmer,
When all nature's pulses thrill
To a new life, glad and tender,
Full of beauty, rich and sweet,
And the world is clad in splendor
That the years shall e'er repeat —
Who will care ?
Who will care ?
Who will think of white hands lying
On a still and silent breast,
268
WHO WILL CARE /—NIGHT AND DEATH, 269
Never more to know of sighing,
Evermore to know of rest ?
Wlio will care ? No one can tell us,
Bnt if rest and peace befall,
Will it matter if they miss us,
Or they miss us not at all ?
Not at all!
NIGHT AND DEATH.
J. BLANCO WHITE.
Mysterious night! when our first parent knew
Thee from report Divine, and heard thy name,
Did he not tremble for this lovely frame,
This glorius canopy of light and blue?
Yet, 'neath a curtain of translucent dew.
Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame,
Hesperus, with the host of heaven, came,
And lo! creation widened in man's view.
"Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed
Within thy beams, O sun! or who could find.
Whilst fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed,
That to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind ?
Why do we, then, shun death with anxious s< rif e ?
If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life?
•V
THE BABY.
No shoes to hide her tiny toes,
No stockings on her feet;
Her supple ankles white as snow,
Or early blossoms sweet.
Her simple dress of sprinkled pink.
Her double, dimpled chin.
Her puckered lip and balmy mouth.
With not one tooth within.
Her eyes so like her mother's eyes,
Two gentle liquid things;
Her face is like an angel's face —
We're glad she has no wings.
She is the budding of our love,
A gift God gave to us;
We must not love the gift o'er well,
'Twould be no blessing thus.
—Changed from the Scotch,
THE DYING WIFE.
H. M. T.
^AY my babe upon my bosom,
Let me feel her sweet, warm breath;
A strange chill is passing o'er me,
And I know that it is death.
Let me gaze once more on the treasure
Scarcely given, ere I go;
Feel her rosy, dimpled fingers
Wander o'er my cheeks of snow.
I am passing through the waters ;
But the blessed shore appears.
Kneel beside me, husband dearest,
Let me kiss away thy tears.
Wrestle with thy grief as Jacob
Strove from midnight until day;
It will seem an angel visit
When it vanishes away.
Lay my babe upon my bosom —
'Tis not long I'll know she's there.
See how to my heart she nestles —
'Tis a pearl I'd love to wear.
2T1
272
GEMS OF POETRY.
Tell her sometimes of her mother;
You will call her by my name.
Shield her from the winds of sorrow,
If she errs, oh ! gently blame.
Lead her sometimes where I'm sleeping,
I will answer when she calls ;
And my breath shall stir her ringlets
When my voice in whisper falls,
And her mild, blue eyes will brighten
She will wonder whence it came —
In her heart when years roll o'er her,
She will find her mother's name.
If in after years, beside thee
Sits another in my chair,
If her voice is sweeter music,
And her face than mine, more fair,
If a cherub calls thee " Father,"
Far more beautiful than this.
Love your first-born, oh! my husband,
Turn not from the motherless.
NEW POEM BY LORD BYRON.
N the dome of my sires as the clear moonbeam
falls
Through silence and shade o'er its desolate
walls,
It shines from afar like the glories of old: ■
It gilds but it warms not, — 'tis dazzling but
cold.
Let the sunbeam be bright for the younger of days;
'Tis the light that should shine on a race that decays,
When the stars are on high and the dews on the ground.
And the long shadow lingers the ruin around.
And the step that o'er-echoes the gray floor of stone
Falls sullenly now, for 'tis only my own;
And sunk are the voices that sounded in mirth,
And empty the goblets, and dreary the hearth.
And vain Avas each effort to raise and recall
The brightness of old to illumine our hall;
And vain was the hope to avert our decline,
And the fame of my fathers has faded to mine.
And theirs was the wealth and the fullness of fame,
And mine to inherit too haughty a name;
18 273
274
GEMS OF POETKY.
And theirs were the times and the triumphs of yore,
And mine to regret, but renew them no more.
And ruin is fixed on my tower and my wall,
Too hoary to f adfe and too massy to fall ;
It tells not of time's or the tempest's decay,
But the wreck of the line that have held it in sway.
AT A SOLEMN MUSIC.
J. MILTON.
LEST pair of syrens, pledges of heaven's joy,
Spbere-born, harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse.
Wed your divine sounds, and mix'd power em
Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce :
And to our high-raised phantasy present
That undisturbed song of pure concent,
Aye sung before the sapphire-color'd throne
To Him that sits thereon.
With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee;
AVhere the bright seraphim, in burning row,
Their loud uplifted angel trumpets blow;
And the cherubic host, in thousand quires,
Touch their immortal harps of golden wires,
With those just spirits that wear victorious palms
Hymns devout and holy psalms
Singing everlastingly :
That we on earth, with undiscording voice,
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportioned sin
Jarr'd against iiature's chime, and with harsh din
Broke the fair music that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd
275
276
GEMS or POETB
In perfect diapason, -whilst they slrod
In first obedience, and their state of good.
Oh, may we soon again renew that song,
And keep in tune with heaven, till God, ere long,
To his celestial concert us unite.
To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light.
THE SONG OF STEAM.
[The following fine poem, by George W. Cutter, of Covington, Ky.,
Blackwood pronounced " the best lyric of the century: "
ARNESS me down with your iron bands;
Be sure of your curb and rein :
For I scorn the power of your puny hands,
As a tempest scorns a chain !
How I laugh' d as I lay conceal' d from sight
For many a countless hour,
At the childish boasit of human might,
And the pride of human power!
When I saw an army upon the land,
A navy upon the seas,
Creeping along, a snail-like band.
Or waiting a wayward breeze;
When I marked the peasant fairly ree
With the toil which he faintly bore,
As he feebly turned the tardy wheel.
Or toiled at the weary oar:
"\Mien I measured the panting courser's speed,
The flight of the courier-dove,
As they bore the law a king decreed,
Or the lines of impatient love—
I could not but think how the world would feel,
As these were outstripp'd afar,
When I should be bound to the rushing keel,
Or chain'd to the flying car!
277
?78 THE SONG OF STEAM.
Ha, ha, ha ! they found me at last;
They invited me forth at length,
And I rushed to my throne with a thunder blast,
And laugh'd in my iron strength!
Oh ! thiMO. ye saw a wondrous change
On the earth and ocean wide,
Where now my fiery armies range,
Nor wait for wind or tide.
Hurrah I hurrah ! the waters o'er,
The mountain's steep decline;
Time — space — have yielded to my power;
The world — the world is mine!
The rivers the sun hath earliest blessed,
Or those where his beams decline ,
The giant streams of the queenly West,
Or the Orient floods divine.
The ocean pales where'er I sweep,
To hear my strength rejoice,
And the monsters of the briny deep
Cower, trembling at my voice.
I carry the wealth and ore of earth.
The thought of his god like mind,
The wind lags after my flying forth,
The lightning is left behind.
In the darksome depths of the fathomless mine
My tireless arm doth play,
Where the rocks never saw the sun's decline,
Or the dawn of a glorious day,
I bi'ing earth's glittering jewels up,
From hidden cave below,
And I make the fountain's granite cup
With a crystal gush o'erflow.
THE SONG OF STEAM.
I blow the bellows, I forge the steel,
In all the shops of trade;
I hammer the ore and turn the wheel
Where my arms of strength are made.
I manage the furnace, the mill, the mint —
I carry, I spin, I weave ;
And all my doings I put into print
On every Saturday eve
I've no muscles to weary, no breast to decay,
No bones to be " laid on the shelf,"
And soon I intend you may "go and play,"
While I manage the world myself.
But harness me down with your iron bands.
Be sure of your curb and rein :
For I scorn the strength of your puny hands,
As the tempest scorns a chain !
MY LITTLE BOY THAT DIED.
DINAH MULOCH-CRAIK.
OOK on his pretty face for just one minute,
His braided frock, his dainty buttoned shoes,
His firm -shut hand, the favorite plaything in it
And tell me, mothers, was't not hard to lose
^^F^ And miss him from my side —
J My little boy that died ?
How many another boy as dear and charming.
His father's hope, his mother's one delight.
Slips through strange sickness, all fear disarming.
And lives a long, long life in parents' sight !
Mine was so short a pride !
And then my poor boy died ?
I see him rocking on his wooden charger ;
I hear him pattering through the house all day ;
I watch his great blue eyes grow large and larger,
Listening to stories, whether grave or gay,
Told at the bright fireside —
So dark now, since he died.
But yet I often think my boy is living,
As living as my other children are ;
When good-night kisses I all around am giving,
I keep one for him, though he is so far.
Can a mere grave divide
Me from him, though he died?
280
MY LITTLE BOY THAT DIED.
28]
So, while I come and plant it o'er with daisies,
(Nothing but childish daisies, all year round).
Continually God's hand the curtain raises,
And I can hear his merry voice's sound
And feel him at my side —
My little boy that died.
— By the author of ^^jfohn Halifax^ GentlemanV
THE BURIAL OF MOSES.
MRS. C. F. ALEXANDER.
Y Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab,
There lies a lonely grave.
And no man knows that sepulchre.
And no man saw it e'er,
For the angels of God upturned the sod.
And laid the dead man there.
That was the grandest funeral
That ever passed on earth ;
But no man heard the trampling,
Or saw the train go forth .
Noiselessly as the daylight
Comes back when night is done,
And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek
Grows into the great sun
Noiselessly as the spring-time
Her crown of verdure weaves.
And all the trees on all the hills
Opened their thousand leaves ;
283
THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 283
So without sound of music
Or voice of them that wept,
Silently down from the mountain'H crown
The great procession swept.
Perchance the bald old eagle,
On gray Beth-Peor's height,
Out of his lonely eyry
Looked on the wondroiTs sight ;
Perchance the lion, stalking.
Still shuns that hallowed spot,
For beast and bird have seen and heard
That which man knoweth not.
But when the warrior dieth,
His comrades in the war.
With arms reversed and muffled drum,
Follow the funeral car;
They show the banners taken.
They tell his battles won.
And after him lead his masterless steed,
While peals the minute-gun.
Amid the noblest of the land
We lay the sage to rest,
And give the bard an honored place
With costly marble drest,
In the great minster transept
"Where lights like glories fall,
And the organ rings and the sweet choir sings
Along the emblazoned wall.
284 GEMS OF POETRY.
This was the truest warrior
That ever buckled sword,
This the most gifted poet
That ever breathed a word;
And never earth's philosopher
Traced with his golden pen,
On the deathless page, truths half so sage
As he wrote down for men.
And had he not high honor, —
The hillside for a pall
To lie in state while angels wait
With stars for tapers tall,
And the dark rock-pine like tossing plumes
Over his bier to wave.
And God's own hand, in that lonely land,
To lay him in the grave ?
In this strange grave without a name
Whence his uncoffined clay
Shall break again, O wondrous thought,
Before the Judgment- day.
And stand with glory wi'apt around
On the hills he never trod,
And speak of the strife that won our life
With the Incarnate Son of God.
O lonely grave in Moab's land !
O dark Beth-Peor's hill !
Speak to these curious hearts of ours.
And teach them to be still.
God hath His mysteries of grace,
Ways that we cannot tell;
He hides them deep, like the hidden sleep
Of him He loved so well.
THE OLD CANOE.
EMILY R. PAGE.
HERE the rocks are gray and the shore is steep.
And the waters below look dark and deep,
AVhere the rugged pine in its lonely pride
Leans gloomily over the murky tide;
Where the reeds and rushes are long and rank,
And the weeds grow thick on the winding bank;
Where the shadow is heavy the whole day through,
There lies at its mooring the old canoe.
The useless paddles are idly dropped,
Like a sea-bird's wings that the storm has lopped.
And crossed on the railing, one o'er one.
Like folded hands when the work is done ;
While busily back and forth between.
The spider stretches his silvery screen,
And the solemn owl, with his dull ''too-hoo,"
Settled down on the side of the old canoe.
The stern half sunk in the slimy wave,
Rots slowly away in its living grave,
And the green moss creeps o'er its dull decay.
Hiding its moldering dust away —
Like the hand that plants o'er the tomb a flower,
Or the ivy that mantles the falling tower ;
While many a blossom of loveliest hue
Springs up o'er the sterx- of the old canoe.
285
286 THE OLD CANOE.
The currentless waters are dead and still —
But the light wind plays with the boat at will,
And lazily in and out again,
It floats the length of the rusty chain,
Like the weary march of the hands of time,
That meet and part at the noontide chime,
And the shore is kissed at each turn anew,
By the dripping bow of the old canoe.
Oh, many a time, with a careless hand,
I have pushed it away from the pebbly strand.
And paddled it down where the stream runs thick,
Where the whirls are wild and the eddies are thick,
And laughed as I leaned o'er the rocking side —
And looked below in the broken tide —
To see that the faces and boats were two,
That were mirrored back from the old canoe.
But, now, as I lean o'er the crumbling side,
And look below in the sluggish tide,
The face that I see is graver grown,
And the laugh that I "hear has a soberer tone,
And the hands that lent to the light skiff wings
Have grown familiar with sterner things ;
But I love to think of the hours that sped,
Ag I rocked where the whirls their white spray shed.
Ere the blossoms waved, or the green grass grew
O'er the moldering stem of the old canoe.
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.
GEN. W. H. LYTLE.
AM dying, Egypt, dying.
Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast.
And the dark Phitonian shadows
Gather on the evening blast.
Lt't thine arm, O queen, support me,
Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear,
Harken to the great heart secrets.
Thou, and thou alone must hear.
Though my scarred and veteran legions
Bear their eagles high no more.
And my wrecked and scattered galleys
Strew dark Actium's fatal shore;
Though no glittering guards surround me,
Prompt to do their master's will,
I must perish like a Koman,
Die the great triumvir still.
Let not Caesar's servile minions
Mock the Hon thus laid low;
'Twas no foeman's hand that slew him,
'Twas his own that struck the blow;
Here, then, pillowed on thy bosom,
288 GEMS OF POETRY,
Ere his star fades quite away,
Him who drunk with thy caresses,
Madly flung a world away.
Should the base, plebeian rabble
Dare assail my fame at Rome,
Where the noble spouse, Octavia,
Weeps within her widowed home,
Seek her, say the gods have told me.
Altars, augurs, circling wings.
That her blood with mine commingled,
Yet shall mount the throne of kings.
And for thee, star-eyed Egyptian!
Glorious Sorceress of the Nile,
Light the path to Stygian horrors
With the splendors of thy smile.
Give the Csesar crowns and arches,
Let his brow the laurel twine,
I can scorn the Senate's triumphs,
Triumphing in love like thine.
I am dying, Egypt, dying.
Hark! the insulting foeman's cry,
They are coming — quick, my falchion!
Let me front them ere I die.
Ah ! no more amid the battle
Shall my heart exulting swell,
Isis and Osiris guard thee,
Cleopatra, Rome, farewell!
y^^^i
FROM " THE CASTLE OF INDOLENCE.
J. THOMSON.
' HIS globe pourtray'd the race of learned men,
Still at their books, and turning o'er the page,
Backwards and forwards; oft they snatch the
pen.
As if inspired, and in a Thespian rage;
Then write, and blot, as would your ruth en-
gage;
Why, authors, all this scrawl and scribbling sore ?
To lose the present, gain the future age.
Praised to be when you can hear no more.
And much enrich' d with fame, when useless worldly store.
Their only labour was to kill the time
(And labour dire it is, and weary woe;)
They sit, and loll; turn o'er some idle rhyme;
Then, rising sudden, to the glass they go,
Or saunter forth, with tottering step and slow:
This soon too rude an exercise they find;
Straight on the couch their limbs again they throw.
Where hours and hours they sighing lie reclined,
And court the vapoury god, soft breathing in the wind.
290
GEMS OF POETEY.
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
I care not, Fortune, what you me deny;
You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace;
You cannot shut the windows of the sky,
Through which Aurora shows her brightening face;
You cannot bar my constant feet to trace
The woods and lawns, by living stream at eve.
Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace.
And I their toys to the great children leave :
Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
THE EVENING CLOUD.
JOHN WILSON.
CLOUD lay cradled near the setting sun,
A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow:
Long had I W9,tched the glory moving on
OVr the still radiance of the lake beloAv.
Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow !
Even in the very motion there was rest;
While every breath of eve that chanced to blov
Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west.
Emblem, methoiight, of the departed soul,
To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given;
And by the breath of mercy made 1o roll
Eight onwards to the golden gates of heaven,
Where to the eye of faith it peaceful lies,
And tells to man his glorious destinies.
291
^
"■"v
TH^ VOICE
p. B. MAKSTON.
HY voice is like the sea's voice, when it makes
A melancholy music on the beach.
Thy voice is in the winds, vyhen birds beseech
The twilight time with song. The stream that
takes
Its way from out the hill by flowery brakes
Has in its tones the sweetness of thy speech.
At night when all is still, and faint sounds reach
The ear of one who having slept awakes
Full of his di'eam, thy voice floats through the night,
In music sad as Autumn winds that blow
'Mid yellowing woods in the sun's waning light,
Compassionate, persistent, clear, and low.
And when the world is fading out of sight,
Thy voice shall whisper peace and bid me go.
292
ODE TO EVENING.
W. COLLINS.
I^t^l
ijF AUGHT of oaten stop or pastoral song
■|i May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear,
d Like thy own solemn springs,
ti Thy springs, and dying gales, —
O nymph reserved, while now the bright- haired
T Sun
Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts,
With braid ethereal wove,
O'er hang his wavy bed:
Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat.
With short, shrill shriek flits on leathern wing;
Or where the beetle winds
His small but sullen horn,
As oft he rises midst the twilight path,
Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum;
Now teach me, maid composed.
To breathe some softened strain.
Whose numbers, stealing thi'ough thy darkening vale,
May not unseemly with its stillness suit;
293
294 GEMS OF POETR-S.
As, musing slow, I hail
Thy genial, loved return!
For when thy folding-star arising shows
His paly circlet, at his warning lamp,
The fragramt Hours, and Elves
Who slept in buds the day,
And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge.
And sheds the freshening dew, and, lovelier still,
The pensive Pleasures sweet,
Prepare thy shadowy car.
Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene ;
Or find some ruin midst its dreary dells,
AVhose walls more awful nod
By thy religious gleams.
Or, if chill, blustering winds, or driving rain,
Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut
That from the mountain's side
Views wilds, and swelling floods,
And hamlets brown, and dim-discovered spires;
And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all
Thy dewy fingers draw
The gradual, dusky vail.
While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont,
And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve!
^Vllile Summer loves to sport
Beneath thy lingering light;
While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves;
Or Winter, yelling through the troublous air,
ODE TO EVENING.
Affrights thy shrinking train,
And rudely rends thy robos —
So long, regardful of thy quiet rule,
Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace,
Thy gentlest influence own,
And love thy favorite name!
295
"■•V
ANNIE AND WILLIE'S PRAYER.
MRS. SOPHIA P. SNOW.
WAS the eve before Christmas; "Goodnight"
had been said,
And Annie and Willie had crept into bed;
There were tears on their pillows, and tears in
their eyes,
And each little bosom was heavy with sighs —
For to-night their stern father's command had
been given
That they should retire precisely at seven,
Instead of at eight, for they troubled him more
With their questions unheard of than ever before.
He had told them he thought this delusion a sin,
No such being as Santa Glaus ever had been,
And he hoped after this he should never more hear
How he scrambled down chimneys with presents each year;
And this was the reason that two little heads
So restlessly tossed on their soft, downy beds.
Eight, nine, and the clock on the steeple tolled ten,
Not a word had been spoken by either till then.
When Willie's sad face from the blanket did peep
And whispered: " Dear Annie, is you fast asleep?"
29$
ANNIE AND WILLIe's PRAYER. 297
" Why, no, brother Willie," a sweet voice replies,
"I've tried it in vain, bnt I can't shut my eyes,
For somehow it makes me sorry because
Dear papa has said there is no Santa Clans.
Now we know that there is, and it can't be denied.
For he came every year before mamma died.
But then I've been thinking that she used to pray,
And God would hear everything mamma would say.
And perhaps she asked Him to send Santa Claus here,
With the sacks full of presents he brought every year."
" Well, why tant we pay dest as mamma did then,
And ask him to send us some presents aden ?"
"I've been thinking so, too," and without a word more
Four little feet bounded out on the floor.
And four little knees the soft carpet pressed.
And two tiny hands were clasped close to each breast.
" Now, Willie, you know we must firmly believe,
That the presents we ask for we're sure to I'eceive;
You must wait just as still till I say the Amen,
And by that you will know that your turn has come then.
" Dear Jesus look down on my brother and me
And grant us the favor we're asking of Thee;
I want a wax dolly, a tea-set and ring.
And a beautiful work-box that shuts with a spring.
Bless papa, dear Jesus, and cause him to see
That Santa Claus loves us far better than he;
Don't let him get angry and fretful again
At dear brother Willie and Annie — Amen!"
"Please, Desus, 'et Santa Claus turn down to-night
And bring us some presents before it is light;
I want he would dive me a nice 'ittle sled,
With bright shining yunners and all painted yed;
298
GEMS OF POETRY.
A box full of tandy, a book and a toy —
Amen — and den, Desiis, I'll be a dood boy."
Their prayers being ended they raised up their heads,
And with hearts light and cheerful again sought their beds.
They were soon lost in slumber, both peaceful and deep.
And with fairies in dream-land were roaming in sleep.
Eight, nine, and the little French clock had struck ten.
Ere the father had thought of his children again.
He seems now to hear Annie's half- suppressed sighs,
And see the big tears stand in Willie's blue eyes.
"I was harsh with my darlings," he mentally said,
"And should not have sent them so early to bed.
But then I was troubled, my feelings found vent.
For bank stock to-day has gone down ten per cent.
But, of course, they've forgotten their troubles ere this,
And that I denied them the thrice asked -for kiss.
But just to make svire I'll steal up to the door.
For I never spoke harsh to my darlings before."
So saying, he softly ascended the stairs.
And arrived at the door to hear both of their prayers ;
His Annie's " Bless papa," draws forth the big tears,
And Willie's grave promise falls sweet on his ears.
"Strange! Strange! I'd forgotten," he said, with a sigh,
" How I longed when a child to have Christmas draw nigh.
"I'll atone for my harshness," he inwardly said,
"By answering their prayers ere I sleep in my bed;"
Then he turned to the stair and softly went down,
Threw off velvet- slippers and silk dressing gown.
Donned hat, coat and boots, and was out in the street,
A millionaire facing the cold, driving sleet.
Nor stopped he until he had bought everything.
ANNIE AND WILLIE's PRAYER. 299
From tlie V>ox full o' candy to the tiny gold ring.
Indeed, he kept adding so much to his store
That the various presents outnumbered a score.
Then homeward he turned with his holiday load,
And with Aunt Mary's help in the nursery 'twas stowed;
Miss Dolly was seated beneath a pine tree.
By the side of a table spread out for her tea;
A work-box well filled in the center was laid.
And on it the rinjr for which Annie had prayed;
A soldier in uniform stood by a sled,
With bright, shining runners, and all painted red.
There were balls, dogs and horses, all pleasing to see.
And bii'ds of all colors were perched in the trees.
While Santa Claus laughing, stood up in the top,
As if getting ready more presents to drop.
And as the good father the picture surveyed
He thought for his trouble he had amply been paid.
And he said to himself, as he brushed oflf a tear;
" I'm happier to-night than I've been for a year.
I've enjoyed more true pleasure than ever before;
What care I if bank stock falls ten per cent, more?
Hereafter I'll make it a rule, I believe.
To have Santa Claus visit us each Christmas eve."
So thinking, he softly extinguished the light.
And tripped down stairs to retire for the night.
As soon as the beams of the bright morning sun
Put the darkness to flight, and the stars one by one,
Four little blue eyes out of sleep opened wide.
And at the same moment the presents espied.
Then out of their beds they sprang with a bound,
And the very gifts prayed for were all of them found.
They laughed and they cried in their innocent glee,
300 GEMS OF POETRY.
And shouted for papa to come quick and see
What presents old Santa Claus brought in the night —
Just the things that they wanted — and left before light,
And now added Annie, in a voice soft and low;
"You'll believe there's a Santa Claus, papa, I know" —
While dear little Willie climbed up on his knee,
Determined no secret between them should be,
And told in soft whispers how Annie had said
That their dear, blessed mamma, so long ago dead,
Used to kneel down and pray by the side of her chair,
And that God up in Heaven had answered her prayer.
" Then we dot up and prayed dest as well as we tood,
AndDod answered our prayers — now wasn't He dood?"
" I should say that He was if He sent you all these,
And knew just what presents my children would please,
(Well, well, let him think so — the dear little elf,
'Twould be cruel to tell him I did it myself.")
Blind father, who caused your stern heart to relent,
And the hasty words spoken so soon to repent ?
'Twas the Being who bade you steal softly up stairs,
And made you His agent to answer their prayers.
WITH THE STKEAM.
RIFTING along the river, all glearuing
With sun-jewels, that sparkled and played on
its breast,
^^^^^^Down thro' the golden-cnpped lillies, and dream-
ing
Of love, as they floated on into the West;
On past the banks, where the tall grasses, waving
Kist the cool stream as they bended them low;
No sound to be heard in the deep stillness, saving
The water's monotonous, musical flow;
Past where the swan mid the sedges was sleeping,
Her head 'neath her feathers, unruffled and white,
And where thro' the brushwood the rabbit was peeping,
As if make to sure there was no one in sight ;
Past where the deep blue forget-me-nots flooded
The space where they bloomed with a heavenly glow,
Where daffodils stoopt from the banks which they
studded.
Reflecting themselves in the water below.
Unconscious the two in the boat as it drifted
Of everything round them, and silent was each ;
For the youth, as he gazed in the sweet eyes uplifted,
Discoursed in a language unfettered by speech!
"V
EAIN ON THE ROOF.
COATES KINNEY.
HEN the humid shadows hover over all the
starry spheres,
And the melancholy darkness gently weeps in
rainy tears,
What a bliss to press the pillow of a cottage-
chamber bed,
And to listen to the patter of the soft rain overhead!
Every tinkle on the shingles has an echo in the heart;
And a thousand dreamy fancies into busy being start,
And a thousand recollections weave their air-threads into woof,
As I listen to the patter of the rain upon the roof.
Now in memory comes my mother, as she used, in years
agone.
To regard the darling dreamers ere she left them till the
dawn :
So I see her leaning o'er me, as I list to this refrain
Which is played upon the shingles by the patter of the rain.
Then my little seraph sister, with the wings and waving hair.
And her star- eyed cherub brother — a serene angelic pair —
304
RAIN ON THE ROOF.
305
Glide around my wakeful pillow, with their praise or mild
reproof,
As I listen to the murmur of the soft rain on the roof.
And another comes, to thrill me with her eyes' delicious blue ;
And I mind not, musing on her, that her heart was all
untrue :
I remember but to love her with a passion kin to pain,
And my heart's quick pulses vibrate to the })atter of the rain.
Art hath naught of tone or cadence that can work with such
a spell
In the souFs mysterious fountains, whence the tears of
rapture well,
As that melody of nature, that subdued, subduing strain,
Which is played upon the shingles by the patter of the rain.
f^'^
30B
■■V
THERE BE NONE OF BEAUTY'S DAUGHTERS.
BYKON.
There be none of beauty's daughters
With a magic Hke thee;
And like music on the waters
Is thy sweet voice to me:
When, as if its sounds were causing
The charmed ocean's pausing,
The waves lie still and gleami'ig.
And the lull'd winds seem dreaming.
And the midnight moon is weaving
Her bright chain o'er the deep;
Whose breast is gently heaving,
As an infant's asleep:
So the spirit bows before thee,
To listen and adore thee;
With a full but soft emotion,
Like the swell of Summer's ocean.
306
THE DYING CHKISTIAN TO HIS SOUL.
A. POPE.
Vital spark of heavenly flame,
Quit, oh quit this mortal frame,
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.
Hark! they whisper: angels say,
"Sister spirit, come away!"
What is this absorbs me quite,
Steals my senses, shuts my sight.
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath.
Tell me, my soul, can this be death ?
The world recedes : it disappears :
Heaven opens on my eyes : my ears
With sounds seraphic ring.
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly I
O Grave, where is thy victory ?
O Death, where is thy sting?
307
■V
BISHOP KEN'S DOXOLOGY.
Thomas Ken was born in England, in 1637, and died there in
1710. His morning hymn, which ends with this doxology, was
written in 1697, at Oxford, for the students in Winchester Col-
lege. Mr. H. Butterworth, in his " Story of the Hymns," says
this unparalleled doxology " is suited to all religious occasions,
to all Christian denominations, to all times, places, and conditions
of men, and has been translated into all civilized tongues, and
adopted by the church universal. Written more than two hun-
dred years ago, it has become the grandest tone in the anthem
of earth's voices continually rising to heaven. As England's
drum-call follows the sun, so the tongues that take up this grate-
ful ascription of praise are never silent, but incessantly encircle
the earth with their melody." The stanza has been somewhat
changed by the hymn-tinkers, as the original reads :
''Praise God, from whom all blessings flow:
Praise Him, all creatures here below ;
Praise Him above, ye angelic host,
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost."
308
TO THE OKGAN.
c. p. w.
Utterer of many thoughts which else were still,
How oft have I
Evoked thy harmony, _
The voiceless void in my poor heart to fill.
Sweet solace of my loneliness or grief,
It is to thee
And thy grand minstrelsy
That I resort for pleasure or relief.
Thy diapason tones' deep, distant swell,
Like ocean's roar,
Or songs from sea- shell's core.
Waken fine chords deep hid in fancy's cell.
Oft-times at even, when my mind is fraught
With visions high,
Or some strange fantasy,
Thy glowing tones give utterance to my thought.
Devotion gains from thee a warmer tone,
Thine undersong
Carries the soul along,
Until it seoips to reach the Eternal Thi'one.
v
SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY.
BYKON.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes ;
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair' d the nameless grace,
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow.
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
310
NEVER DESPAIR.
W. C. RICHARDS.
HIS motto I give to the young and the old,
]\[ore precious by far than a treasure of gold;
'Twill prove to its ovs^ner a talisman rare,
More potent than magic — 'tis Never Despair i
No, never despair, whatsoe'er be thy lot,
If Fortune's gay sunshine illumine it not;
Mid its gloom, and despite its dark burden of care,
If thou canst not be cheerful, yet, Never Despair!
Oh! what if the sailor a coward should be,
"VMien the tempest comes down, in its wrath on the sea.
And the mad billows leap, like Avild beasts from their lair
To make him their prey, if he yield to Despair ?
But see him amid the fierce strife of the waves,
When around his frail vessel the storm demon raves ;
How he rouses his soul Tip to do and to dare!
And, while there is life left, will Never Despair!
Thou, too. art a sailor, and Time is the sea,
And life the frail vessel that upholdeth thee ;
Fierce stonns of misfortune will fall to thy share,
But, like the bold mariner. Never Despair!
311
S12
GEMS OF POETRY.
Let not the wild tempest thy spirit affright,
Shrink not from the storm, tho' it come in its might;
Be watchful, be ready, for shipwreck prepare,
Keep an eye on the life-boat, and Never Despair.
•V
TO THE EVENING AVlND.
W. C. BRYANT.
["The Talismai has contained some very beautiful poetry,
each year of its pubhcation; but this,— we had almost said it is the
sweetest thing in the language. Not in any one of the Souvenirs,
either English or American, has there ever appeared a page of
such pure, deep, finished poetry. It has ail the characteristics of
Bryant's style — his chaste elegance, both in thought and expres-
sion,— ornament enough, but not in profusion or display,— imagery
that is natural, appropriate, and, in this instance, peculiarly sooth-
ing,— select and melodious language,— harmony in the flow of the
stanza, -gentleness of feeling, and richness of philosophy." — Geo.
B. Chrcvcr's Poets of America, p. 265. \
PIRIT that breathest through my lattice, thou
That cool'st the twilight of the sultry day,
Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow;
Thou hast been out upon the deep at play,
Riding all day the wild blue waves till now,
Roughening their crests, and scattering high
their spray,
And swelling the white sail. I welcome thee
To the scorched land, thou wanderer of the sea!
Nor I alone — a thousand bosoms round
Inhale thee in the fulness of delight;
And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound
313
314
GEMS OF POETRY.
Livelier, at coming of the wind of night;
And, languishing to hear thy grateful sound,
Lies the vast inland stretched beyond the sight.
Go forth into the gathering shade ; go forth,
God's blessing breathed uj^on t'je fainting earth!
Go, rock the little wood- bird in his nest,
Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse
The wide old wood from his majestic rest.
Summoning from the innumerable boughs
The strange, deep harmonies that haunt his breast;
Pleasant shall be thy way where meekly bows
The shutting flower, and darkling waters pass,
And 'twixt the o'er-shadowing branches and the grass.
The faint old man shall lean his silver head
To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep,
And dry the moistened curls that overspread
His temjoles, while his breathing grows more deep;
And they who stand about the sick man's bed,
Shall joy to listen to thy distant sweej),
And softly part his curtains to allow
Thy visit, grateful to his burning brow.
Go^but the circle of eternal change,
That is the life of nature, shall restore.
With sounds and scents from all thy mighty range,
Thee to thy birth-place of the deep once more ;
Sweet odors in the sea-air, sweet and strange,
Shall tell the home-sick mariner of the shore;
And, listening to the murmur, he shall deem
He hears the rustling leaf and running sti-eam.
%£/^
HYMN OF NATURE.
W. O. B. PEABODY.
|0D of the earth's extended plains!
The dark green fields contented lie :
The mountains rise like holy towers,
Where man might commune with the sky :
Wf^ The tall cliff challenges the storm
M° That lowers upon the vale below,
^ Where shaded fountains send their streams,
With joyous music in their flow.
God of the dark and heavy deep!
The waves lie sleeping on the sands,
Till the fierce trumpet of the storm
Have summoned up their thundering bands;
Then the white sails are dashed like foam,
Or hurry, trembling, o'er the seas.
Till, calmed by thee, the sinking gale
Serenely breathes. Depart in peace.
God of the forest's solemn shade!
The grandeur of the lonely tree,
That wrestles singly with the gale,
Lifts up admiring eyes to thee;
315
B16 GEMS OF rCETBSr
But more majestic far they stand,
When, side by side, their ranks they form,
To wave on high their plumes of green,
And fight their battles with the storm.
God of the light and viewless air!
Where summer breezees sweetly flow,
Or, gathering in their angry might,
The fierce and wintry tempests blow;
All — from the evening's plaintive sigh.
That hardly lifts the drooping flower,
To the wild whirlwind's midnight cry —
Breathe forth the language of thy power.
God of the fair and open sky!
How gloriously above us springs
The tented dome, of heavenly blue,
Suspended on the rainbow's rings!
Each brilliant star, that sparkles through,
Each gilded cloud, that wanders free
In evening's purple radiance, gives
The beauty of its praise to thee.
God of the rolling orbs above!
Thy name is written clearly bright
In the warm day's unvarying blaze.
Or evening's golden shower of light.
For every flre that fronts the sun,
And every spark that walks alone
Around the utmost verge of heaven,
Were kindled at thy burning throne.
God of the world! the hour must come.
And nature's self to dust return;
HYMN OF NATURE.^WHAT IS NOBLE? 3l7
Her crumbling altars must decay;
Her incense fires shall cease to burn;
But still her grand and lovely scenes
Have made man's warmest praises flow;
For hearts grow holier as they trace
The beauty of the world below.
WHAT IS NOBLE.
C. SWAIN.
What is noble? 'Tis the finer
Portion of our Mind and Heart;
Linked to something still diviner
Than mere language can impart;
Ever prompting — ever seeing
Some improvement yet to plan;
To uplift our fellow being,
And, like man, to feel for Man!
"■■V
YOU REMEMBER IT— DON'T YOUv
THOMAS H. BAYLEY.
You remember the time when I first sought your home,
When a smile, not a word, was the summons to come ?
When you called me a friend, till you found with surprise
That our frendship turned out to be love in disguise.
You remember it, — don't you ?
You will think ot it, — won't you?
Yes, yes, of this the remembrance will last,
h ng after the present fades into the past.
You remember the grief that grew lighter when shared ?
With the bliss you remember, could aught be compared ?
You remember how fond was my earliest vow ?
Not fonder than that v/hich I breathe to thee now.
You remember it, — don't you ?
You will think of it, — won't you?
Yes, yes, of all this the remembrance will last,
bong after the present fades into the past.
318
'A^J^
REVENGE OF INJURIES.
LADY ELIZABETH CAREW.
HE fairest action of oai' human life
Is scorning to revenge an injury ;
For Avho forgives without a further strife,
His adversary's heart to him doth tie;
And 'tis a firmer conquest truly said,
To win the heart, than overthrow the head.
If we a worthy enemy do find.
To yield to worth it must be nobly done;
But, if of baser metal be his mind.
In base revenge there is no honor won.
Who would a worthy courage overthrow ?
And who would wrestle with a worthless foe ?
We say our hearts are great, andean not yield;
Because they can not yield, it proves them poor:
Great hearts are tasked beyond their power, but seld;
The weakest lion will the loudest roar;
Truth's school for certain did this same allow :
High-heartedness doth sometimes teach to bow.
A noble heart doth teach a virtuous scorn: —
To scorn to owe a duty over long;
319
320
GEMS OF POETRY.
To scoru to be for benefits forborne;
To scorn to lie; to scorn to do a wrong;
To scorn to bear an injury in mind;
To scorn a free-born heart slave-like to bind.
But if for wrongs we needs revenge must have,
Then be our vengeance of the noblest kind.
Do we his body from our fury save,
And let our hate prevail against his mind ?
What can 'gainst him a greater vengeance be,
Than make his foe more worthy far than he ?
THE OLD COTTAGE CLOCK
H ! the old clock of the household stock
"Was the brightest thing and the neatest;
Its hands, though old, had a touch of gold,
And its chime rang still the sweetest.
'T was a monitor, too, though its words were few.
Yet they lived through nations altered ;
And its voice, s'till strong, warned old and young
When the voice of friendship faltered ;
"Tick, tick," it said — "quick, quick to bed —
For nine I've given warning ;
Up, up and go, or else you know.
You'll never rise soon in the morning."
A friendly voice was that old, old clock,
As it stood in the corner smiling.
And blessed the time, with a merry chime,
The Wintry hours beguiling ;
But a cross old voice was that tiresome clock,
As it called at daybreak boldly.
When the dawn looked gray on the misty way.
And the early air blew coldly ;
" Tick, tick," it said — "quick, out of bed —
For five I've given warning ;
You'll never have health, you'll never get wealth,
Unless you're up soon in the morning."
821
322 THE OLD COTTAGE CLOCK.
Still hourly the sound goes round and round,
With a tone that ceases never ;
"While tears are shed for the bright days fled,
And the old friends lost forever ;
Its heart b^ats on, though hearts are gone
That warmer beat and younger ;
Its hands still move, though hands we love
Are clasped on earth no longer !
" Tick, tick," it said — "to the churchyard bed —
The grave hath given warning —
Up, up and rise, and look to the skies,
And prepare for a heavenly morning."
— Christian Intelligencer.
M^m
A LITTLE WOED.
A little word in kindness spoken,
A motion or a tear,
Has often healed the heart that's broken!
And made a friend sincere.
A word — a look — has crushed to earth,
Full many a budding flower,
Which had a smile but owned its birth.
Would bless life's darkest hour.
Then deem it not an idle thing,
A pleasant word to speak;
The face you wear, the thoughts you bring,
A heart may heal or break.
v
I SAW THEE WEEP.
GEOBGE G. BYRON.
I saw thee weep — the big bright tear
Came o'er that eye of blue:
And then methought it did appear
A violet dropping dew:
I saw thee smile — the sapphire's blaze
Beside thee ceased to shine;
It could not match the living rays
That fill'd that glance of thine.
As clouds from yonder sun receive
A deep and mellow dye,
Which scarce the shade of coming eve
Can banish from the sky,
Those smiles unto the moodiest mind
Their own pure joy impart;
Their sunshine leaves a glow behind,
That lightens o'er the heart.
324
NAPOLEON AT REST.
J. PIERPONT.
IS falchion fxashed along the Nile,
His host he led through Alpine snows;
O'er Moscow's towers, that blazed the while.
His eagle-flag unrolled-and froze!
Here sleeps he now, alone! — not one,
Of all the kings whose crowns he
Bends o'er his dust; nor wife nor son
Has ever seen or sought his grave.
Behind the sea-girt rock, the star
That led him on from crown to crown
Has sunk, and nations from afar
Gazed as it faded and went down
High is his tomb: the ocean flood.
Far, far below, by storms is curled —
As round him heaved, while high he stood,
A stormy and unstable world.
Alone he sleeps: the mountain cloud,
That night hangs round him, and the breath
325
326 OEMS OF POETKY.
Of morning scatters, is the shroud
That wraps the conqueror's clay in death.
Pause here ! The far off world at last
Breathes free; the hand that shook its thrones.
And to the earth its miters cast,
Lies powerless now beneath these stones.
Hark! Comes there from the pyramids,
And from Siberian wastes of snow,
And Europe's hills, a voice that bids
The world be awed to mourn him? — No!
The only, the perpetual dirge,
That's heard here is the sea-bird's ciy —
The mournful murmur of the surge,
The clouds' deep voice, the wind's low sigh.
AND THOU ART DEAD.
GEORGE GORDON (lORD) BYRON.
ND thou art dead, as young and fair,
As aught of mortal birth ;
And form so soft, and charms so rare,
Too soon return' d to Earth!
Though Earth received them in her bei46 GEMS OF POETK\'.
Ill court or cottage, wheresoe'er her home,
Hath a heart- spell too holy and too high
To be o'er-praised even by her worshiper — Poesy.
There's one in the next field — of sweet sixteen —
Singing and summoning thoughts of beauty born
In heaven — with her jacket of light green,
"Love-darting eyes, and tresses like the morn,"
Without a shoe or stocking, — hoeing corn.
Whether, like Gertrude, she oft wanders there,
With Shakspeare's volume in her bosom borne,
I think is doubtful. Of the poet- player
The maiden knows no more than Cobbett or Voltaire.
There is a woman, widowed, gray, and old.
Who tells you where the foot of Battle stepped
Upon their day of massacre. She told
Its tale, and pointed to the spot, and wept,
Whereon her father and five brothers slept
Shrouldless, the bright- dreamed slumbers of the bra\e,
When all the land a funeral mourning kept.
And there, wild laurels, planted on the grave.
By Nature's hand, in air their pale red blossoms wave.
And on the margin of yon orchard hill
Are marks where time-worn battlements have been;
And in the tall grass traces linger still
Of " arrowy frieze and wedged ravelin."
Five hundred of her brave that Valley green
Trod on the morn in soldier-spirit gay;
But twenty lived to tell the noon-day scene —
And where are now the twenty ? Pass'd away.
Has Death no triumph-hours, save on the battle day ?
DEATH'S FIRST DAY.
[The following beautiful descriptive lines are the best in Byrou's
Giaour {Jovr, an infidel;— applied by the Turks to disbelievers iu
Mohammedanism.— PFt^bs^e/-.) His note annexed to the sucoed-
ing passages gives an accurate idea of Byron's prose style:
'•I trust that few of my readers have ever had an opportunity oi
witnessing what is here attempted in description ; but those who
have will probably retain a painful remembrance of that singular
beauty which pervades, with few exceptions, the features of the
dead, a few hours, and but for a few hours, after ' the spirit is not
there.' It is to be remarked in cases of violent death by gun-shoi
wounds, the expression is always that of langour, whatever the
natural energy of the sufferer's character; but in death from a
stab, the countenance preserves its traits of feeling or ferocity,
and the mind its bias, to the last."]
E who hath bent him o'er the dead
Ere the first day of death is fled,
The first dark day of nothingness.
The last of danger and distress,
(Before Decay's effacing fingers
Have swept the lines where beauty lingers),
And mark'd the mild angelic air,
The raptiire of repose that's there,
The fix'd yet tender traits that streak
The langour of the placid cheek,
And— but for that sad shrouded eye.
That fires not, wins not, weeps not now,
And but for that chill, changeless brow,
847
848
GEMS OF POETRY.
Where cold Obstructions's apathy
Appals the gazing mourner's heart,
As if to him it could impart
The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon;
Yes, but for these and these alone,
Some moments, ay, one treacherous hour,
He still might doubt the tyrant's power;
So fair, so calm, so softly seal'd,
The first, last look by death reveal'd!
Such is the aspect of this shore;
'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more!
So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
We start, for soul is wanting there.
Hers is the loveliness in death,
That parts not quite with parting breath;
But beauty with that fearful bloom.
That hue which haunts it to the tomb,
Expression's last receding ray,
A gilded halo hovering round decay.
The farewell beam of Feeling passed away!
Spark of that flame, perchance of heavenly birth.
Which gleams, but warms no more its cherish'd earth!
350
-v/^-
THE OLD FARM GATE.
E. J. HALL.
fSE old farm gate hangs, sagging down,
On rusty hinges, b3nt and brown;
Its latch is gone, and, here and there
It shows rude traces of repair.
_^, That old farm gate has seen, each year.
The blossoms bloom and disappear:
The bright green leaves of Spring unfold,
And turn to Autumn's red and gold.
Tne children have upon it clung.
And, in and out, with rapture swung.
When their young hearts were good and pure-
When hope was fair and faith was sure.
Beside that gate, have lovers true
Told the old story, always new;
Have made their vows, have dreamed of bliss.
And sealed each promise with a kiss.
The old farm gate has opened wide
To welcome home the new-made bride,
When lilacs bloomed, and locusts fair
With their sweet fragrance filled the aii\
351
352
GEMS OF POETRY.
That gate, with nisty weight and chain,
Has closed upon the solemn train
That bore her lifeless form away,
Upon a dreary Autumn day.
The lichens gray and mosses green
Upon its rotting posts are seen;
Initials, carved with youthful skill,
Long years ago, are on it still.
Yet dear to me above all things.
By reason of the thoughts it brings,
Is that old gate, now sagging down,
On rusty hinges, bent and brovm.
SONG OF THE PIONEERS.
W. D. GALLAGHER.
^^^^^ SONG for the early times out west,
And our green old forest home,
Whose pleasant memories freshly yet
Across the bosom come:
A song for the free and gladsome life
In those early days wo led,
With a teeming soil beneath our feet.
And a smiling heaven o'erhead!
O the waves of life danced merrily.
And had a joyous flow,
In the days when we were pioneers.
Fifty years ago!
The hunt, the shot, the glorious chase,
The captured elk or deer;
The camp, the big, bright fire, and then
The rich and wholesome cheer;
The sweet, sound sleep, at dead of night,
By our camp-fire blazing high —
Unbroken by the wolf's long howl,
And the panther springing by.
O merrily passed the time, despite
353
354 GEMS OF POETRY.
Oui' wily Indian foe,
In the days when we were pioneers,
Fifty years ago!
We shunned not labor; when 'twas due,
We wrought with right good will;
And, for the home we won for them,
Our children bless us still.
We lived not hermit lives, but oft
In social converse met;
And fires of love were kindled then,
That burn on warmly yet.
O pleasantly the stream of life
Pursued its constant flow,
In the days when we were pioneers,
Fifty years ago!
We felt that we were fellow-men;
We felt we were a band
Sustained here in the wilderness
By Heaven's upholding hand.
And, when the solemn Sabbath came,
We gathered in the wood.
And lifted up our hearts in prayer
To God, the only Good.
Our temples then were earth and sky;
None others did we know
In the days when we were pioneers,
Fifty years ago!
Our forest life was rough and rude.
And dangers closed us round,
But here, amid the green old trees,
Freedom we sought and found.
SONG OF THE PIONEERS. 355
Oft through our dwellings wintry 'blasts
Would rush with shriek and moan;
We cared not — though they were but frail,
We felt they were our own !
O free and manly lives we led,
Mid verdure or mid snow,
In the days when we were pioneers,
Fifty years ago!
But now our course of life is short;
And as, from day to day,
We're walking on with halting step,
And fainting by the way,
Another land, more bright than this,
To our dim sight appears,
And on our way to it we'll soon
Again be pioneers!
Yet while we linger, we may all
A backward glauce still thi^ow
To the days when we were pioneers,
Fifty years ago!
BYRON'S FINEST IMAGE. *
[The following lines, from Lord Byron's English Bards and
Scotch Reviewers, refer to Henry Kirke White, a too ardent
student, born at Nottingham, England, March 21, 1785, and died
at Cambridge, England, Oct. 19, 1806. Byron says of H. K.
White: " His poems abound in such beauties as must impress the
reader with the liveliest regret that so short a period was allotted
to talents which would have dignified even the sacred functions he
was destined to assume."]
Unhappy White! while Hfe was in its spring,
And thy young muse just waved its joyous wing,
The spoiler came; and all thy promise fair
Has sought the grave, to sleep for ever there.
Oh! what a noble heart was here undone,
When Science 'self destroy'd her favorite son!
Yes, she too much indulged thy fond pursuit,
She sow'd the seeds, but death has reap'd the fruit.
'Twas thine own genius gave the fatal blow,
And help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low:
So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain.
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart,
And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart;
Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel.
He nurs'd the pinion which impelled the steel;
While the same plumage that had warm'd his nest.
Drank the last life-drop of his bleeding breast.
356
KINDRED HEARTS.
MRS. HEMANS.
t^l^
H! ask not, hope thou not too much
Of sympathy below ;
Few are the hearts whence one same touch
Bids the sweet fountains flow :
Few — and by still conflicting powers
Forbidden here to meet —
Such ties would make this life of ours
Too fair for aught so fleet.
It may be that thy brother's eye
Sees not as thine, which turns
In such deep reverence to the sky,
Where the rich sunset burns:
It may be that the breath of spring,
Born amidst violets lone,
A rapture o'er thy soul can bring —
A dream, to his unknown.
The tune that speaks of other times—
A sorrowful delight!
The melody of distant chimes,
The sound of waves by night;
The wind that, with so many a tone,
8i7
358 GEMS OF POETRY.
Some chord within can thrill, —
These may have language all thine own,
To him a mystery still.
Yet scorn thou not for this, the true
And steadfast love of years ;
The kindly, that from childhood grew,
The faithful to thy tears !
If there be one that o'er the dead
Hath in thy grief borne part.
And watch'd through sickness by thy bed,-
Call his a kindred heart !
But for those bonds all perfect made,
Wherein bright spirits blend,
Like sister flowers of one sweet shade,
With the same breeze that bend,
For that full bliss of thought allied,
Never to mortals given, —
Oh! lay thy lovely dreams aside,
Or lift them unto heaven I
-v^
THE WATER LILY.
FELICIA D. B. HEMANS.
'H! beautiful thou art,
Thou sculpture-like and stately River-Queen!
Crowning the depths, as with the light serene
Of a pure heart.
Bright lily of the wave !
Rising in fearless grace with every swell,
Thou seem'st as if a spirit meekly brave
Dwelt in thy cell :
Lifting alike thy head
Of placid beauty, feminine yet free,
Whether with foam or pictured azure spread
The waters be.
"What is like thee, fair flower,
The gentle and the firm ? thus bearing up
To the blue sky that alabaster cup,
As to the shower?
Oh! Love is most like thee,
The love of woman; quivering to the blast
Through every nerve, yet rooted deep and fast,
'MidstLife's dark sea.
359
360
GEMS OF POETRY.
And Faith — O, is not faith
Like thee, too, Ljly, springing into light,
Still buoyantly above the billows' might,
Through the storm's breath ?
Yes, link'd with such high thought,
Flower, let thine image in my bosom lie!
Till something there of its own purity
And peace be wrought:
Something yet more divine
Than the clear, pearly, virgin lustre shed
Forth from thy breast upon the river's bed,
As fi'om a shrine.
THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB.
LORD BYRON.
HE Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold.
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and
gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on
the soa,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Gal-
ilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen;
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breatlfd in the face of the foe as he pass'd;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still!
And there lay the steed with his nostrils all wide,
But through them there roll'd not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock- beating surf.
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
3Gl
362
GEMS OF POETRY.
With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail.
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord !
ANGEL VISITS.
MRS. HEMANS.
^^^^^RE ye forever to your skies departed?
Oh! will ye visit this dim world no more?
Ye, whose bright wings a solemn splendor
darted
Through Eden's fresh and flowering shades
of yore?
Now are the fountains dried on that sweet spot,
And ye — our faded earth beholds you not!
Yet, by your shining eyes not all forsaken,
Man wander' d from his Paradise away;
Ye, from forgetfulness his heart to waken,
Came down, high guests! in many a later day,
And with the Patriarchs, under vine or oak,
'Midst noontide calm or hush of evening, spoke.
From you, the veil of midnight darkness rending,
Came the rich mysteries to the Sleeper's eye,
That saw your hosts ascending and descending
On those bright steps between the earth and sky;
Trembling he woke, and bow'd o'er glory's trace,
And worsliip'd, awe-struck, in that fearful place.
363
364 GEMS OF POETEY.
By Chebar's brook ye pass'd, such radiance wearing
As mortal vision might but ill endure ;
Along the stream the living chariot bearing,
With its high crystal arch, intensely pure !
And the dread inishing of your wings that hour,
Was like the noise of waters in their power.
But in the Olive mount, by night appearing,
'Midst the dim leaves, your holiest work was done!
Whose was the voice that came divinely cheering,
Fraught with the breath of God, to aid his Son? —
Haply of those that, on the moon-lit plains,
Wafted good tidings unto Syrian swains.
Yet one more task was yours ! your heavenly dwelling
Ye left, and by th' unseal'd sepulchral stone,
In glorious raiment, sat; the weepex's telling.
That He they sought had triumph' d, and was gone!
Nowhave ye left us for the brighter shore.
Your presence lights the lonely groves no more.
But may ye not, unseen, around us hover,
With gentle promptings and sweet inHuence yet.
Though the fresh glory of those days be over,
When, 'midst the palm-trees, man your footsteps met ?
Are ye not near when faith and hope rise high.
When love, by strength, o'ermasters agony ?
Are ye not near when sorrow, unrepining,
Yields up life's treasures unto Him who gave?
When martyrs, all things for His sake resigning.
Lead on the march of death, serenely brave ?
Dreams ! — ^but a deeper thought our souls may fill —
One, one is near — a spirit holier still!
AFTER THE STOEM.
MBS. ANNIE HOWE (bISHOp) THOMSON.
A. night without of wind and rain,
And a night in my soul of grief and pain.
A night without of darkness and gloom,
And a night in my soul because of a tomb.
A lonely tomb on the hillside made,
Under the oak tree's sheltering shade.
A lowly grave where a loved one lies,
With the shadow of death on brow and eyes;
And a pallor that only comes when life
Is ended, with all of mortal strife.
With folded hands and a quiet breast: —
Dear hands that never before knew rest!-
And close sealed lips that never again,
Will make the way of life so plain
To faltering feet ; nor will I prove
The sweetness of all their words of love.
^Vhat wonder if anguish fills my breast.
That sadden my days and break my rest !
A^^lat wonder if life and its pleasures seem
But a fitful glow, and a fading di'eam ! —
366 GEMS OF POETRY.
That I long in the same low bed to lie,
Under this fair, sweet summer's sky.
Sleeping my last, long, dreamless sleep,
From which I shall never awake to weep !
But, the night will go and the morning beam.
And the storm die out as fading dream ;
And the bhie sky smile from its midnight pall,
With the beautiful sunshine over all :
So, out of my heart this weary pain,
With its night of grief and its storm and rain,
Will one day go, when the morn shall rise.
Over the hills of paradise :
And my loved and lost shall wal"k with me,
Under the shade of life's fair tree,
With a beaming eye and a radiant brow.
Though silent and cold, and moldering now.
Then heart be still, and patient wait !
For soon will open each pearly gate —
Will open to you on realms of bliss.
And closing shiit out the griefs of this.
THE FLOWERS' YEAR.
OR March the violets come;
For April, daft'odilHes;
May and June the roses bloom,
In July the lilies.
In August comes the golden-rod,
Asters in September;
In October leaves grow red,
And fall off in November.
Then the flowers go to sleep,
In their warm earth-houses;
Every one through all the long
Winter snow- time drowses.
But when Spring comes, up they start :
Stretch their hands a minute —
"Time to do our Summer's woi'k:
Violets, you begin it ! "
A CHRISTMAS HYMN.
[The following is one of the most beautiful poems ever written
on the subject. The author is supposed to have been Alfred
Domett.]
iT was the calm and silent night!
Seven hundred years and fifty-three
Had Home been growing up to might,
And now was queen of land and sea!
No sound was heard of clashing wars ;
Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain:
Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars,
Held undisturbed their ancient reign.
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago!
'Twas in the calm and silent night! —
The senator of haughty Rome
Impatient urged his chariot's flight.
From lordly i-evel rolling home!
Triumphal arches gleaming swell
His breast with thoughts of l}oundless sway :
What recked the Roman what befell
A paltry province far away,
In the solemn midnight
Centuries ago!
368
A CHRISTMAS HYMN. 369
Went plodding home a weary boor
A streak of light before him lay,
Fallen through a half-shut stable door
Across his path. He passed — for nought
Told what was going on within ;
How keen the stars ! his only thought
The air, how calm, and cold, and thin.
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago!
O, strange indifference! low and high
Drowsed over common joys and cares;
The earth was still — but knew not why,
The world was listening — unawares.
How calm a moment may precede.
One that shall thrill the world forever!
To that still moment, none would heed,
Man's doom was linked no more to sever.
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago!
It is the calm and solemn night !
A thousand bells ring out, and throw
Their joyous peals abroad, and smite
The darkness — charmed and holy now!
The night that erst no shame had worn,
To it a happy name is given;
For in that stable lay, new born,
The peaceful Prince of earth and heaven.
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago.
WE HAVE SEEN HIS STAR.
|HAT babe new-born is this
That in a manger lies ?
Dear on her lowly bed
His happy mother lies.
Watching- the stars of old,
Wise men marveled at night,
WT^en the gilded azure wide unrolled
With new and wondrous light.
On from the gates of morn
They followed the sign afar,
Saying: " "Where is the king that is born
For we have seen his star."
Long had the world of night
Waited the promised king;
She heard 'midst tears of wild delight
The sweep of the angel's wing.
The strength of sin was broke,
Death's fetters scattered far,
As glad the heavenly chorus woke,
" Lo, we have seen his starl"
«D
QUESTIONS.
MRS. REBECCA N. HAZARD.
i F for the welfare of the tree
Some branch, though filled with buddinf ife,
Tossed by the wind in dalliance free,
Is made to feel the pruner's knife,
Shall it complain?
And if to make the border gay,
When Howers feel the breath of June,
Some plants less fair be cast away
To fade and wither all too soon,
^Yh.o shall say nay?
If in the strife for highest good
My loss should be another's gain;
If some weak soul, in sorrowing mood,
Its peace should purchase through my pain.
Shall I repine ?
Or if some thought born of my woe
A benison to others prove,
Though waked to life by fiercest throe.
Should it another's pang remove,
Can I be sad?
an
872 GEMS or POETET.
The answer's plain, and yet, ah me !
The human heart hath human needs,
And when 'gainst reason's high decree
For self and happiness it pleads,
What can avail ?
THE SACRED HARP.
MRS. r. D. HEMAN8.
How shall tbeHarp'-of poesy regain.
That old victorious tone of prophet-years,
A spell divine o'er guilt's perturbing fears,
And all the hovering shadows of the brain ?
Dark evil wings took flight before the strain,
And showers of holy quiet, with its fall,
Sank on the soul: — Oh! who may now recall
The mighty music's consecrated reign? —
Spirit of God! whose glory once o'erhung
A throne, the Ark's dread cherubim between.
So let thy presence brood, though now unseen .
O'er those two powers by whom the harp is strung-
Feeling and Thought! — till the rekindled chords
Give the long- buried tone back to immortal words !
37 1
OEMS OF FOETBX.
THE SILENT CHILDREN.
ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS.
HE light was low in the school-room,
The duy before Christmas day,
Had ended. It was darkening in the garden,
Where the silent children play.
Throughout that House of Pity,
The soundless lessons said,
The noiseless sport suspended.
The voiceless tasks all said.
The little deaf-mute children,
As still as still could be,
Gathered about the master,
Sensitive, swift to see.
With their fine attentive fingers
And their wonderful, watchful eyes—
What dumb joy he would bring them
For the Christmas eve's surprise!
The lights blazed out in the school -room:
The play-ground went dark as death;
The master moved in a halo;
The children held their breath.
376
376 GEMS OF POETRY.
"I show you now a wouder —
The Audiphone," he said.
He spoke in their silent language,
Like the language of the dead.
And answering spake the children,
As the dead might answer too;
"But what for us, O master?
This may be good for you ;
"But how is our Christmas coming
Out of a wise machine?
For not like other children's
Have our happy hours been;
"And not like other children's
Can they now or ever be!"
But the master smiled through the halo;
"Just trust a mystery.
" O my children, for a little
As those who suffer must !
Great 'tis to bear denial,
But grand it is to trust."
Then to the waiting marvel
The listening children leant,
Like listeners, the shadows
Across the school -room bent.
Quick signalled then the master,
Sweet sang the hidden choir—
Their voices, wild and piercing,
Broke like a long desire
THE SILENT CHILDREN. 377
That to content has strengthened,
Glad the clear strains ontraug:
*■'■ Nearer to Tkce^ oh, nearer !'''
The pitying singers sang.
" Nearer to Thee^ oh, nearer^
Nearer, my God, to thee I "
Awestruck, the silent children
Hear the great harmony.
Happy that Christmas evening:
"Wise was the master's choice,
Who gave the deaf-mute childi'en
The blessed human voice.
Wise was that other Master,
Tender His purpose dim,
Who gave His Son on Christmas,
To di-aw us "nearer Him."
We are all but silent children,
Denied and deaf and dumb
Before His unknown science-
Lord, if Thou wilt, we come !
■Wide Awake
COUNSEL.
M. E. W. SHERWOOD.
F thou dost bid thy friend farewell,
Tho' but for one night that farewell may be.
Press thou liis palm witli thine! — how canst
thou tell
How far from thee
Fate or caprice may lead his feet,
Ere that to-morrow comes? Men have been known
To lightly turn the corner of a street,
And days have grown
To months, and months to lagging years,
Before they looked in loving eyes again.
Parting, at best, is underlaid with tears,
With tears and pain.
Therefore, lest sudden death should come between.
Or time or distance, clasp with pressure true,
The hand of him who goeth forth; unseen,
Fate goeth, too.
Yea, find thou alway time to say
Some earnest word between the idle talk;
Lest with thee henceforth, ever, night and day,
Regret should walk.
AFTEE-LIFE OF THE POET'S WORKS.
JOHN KEATS.
[The followincr felicitous description is from this unfortuna'e
poet's Epistle to his brother George, written in August, 1816,
which appeared in his first volume of poems in 1817. After de-
scribing the poet's earthly life and its various experiences, Keats
says:]
'HESE are the living pleasures of the bard:
But richer far posterity's award.
What does he murmur with his latest breath.
While his proud eye looks through the film of
death ?
''What though I leave this dull and earthly
mould,
Yet shall my spirit lofty converse hold
With after times. —The patriot shall feel
My stern alarum, and unsheath his steel;
Or, in the senate thunder out my numbers
To startle princes from their easy slumbers.
The sage will mingle with each moral theme
My happy thoughts sententious ; he will teem
With lofty periods when my verses fire him,
And then I'll stoop from heaven to inspire him.
Lays have I left of such a dear delight
That maids will aing them on their bridal night
379
380 GEMS OF POETKT.
Gay villagers, upon a morn of May,
When they have tired their gentle limbs with play,
And formed a snowy circle on the grass.
And placed in midst of all that lovely lass
Who chosen is their queen, — with her fine head
Crowned with flowers purpl-e, white, and red:
For there the lily and the musk-rose, sighing
Are emblems true of hapless lovers dying;
Between her breasts, that never yet felt trouble,
A bunch of violets full bloom, and double.
Serenely sleep: — she from a casket takes
A little book,— and then a joy awakes
About each youthful heart, — with stifled cries.
And rubbing of white hands, and sparkling eyes :
For she's to read a tale of hopes and fears;
One that I fostered in my youthful years ;
The pearls, that on each glist'ning circlet sleep,
Gush ever and anon with silent creep,
Lured by the innocent dimples. To sweet rest
Shall the dear babe, upon it s mother's breast,
Be lulled with songs of mine. Fair world, adieu!
Thy dales, and hills, are fading from my view:
Swiftly I mount, upon wide spreading pinions,
Far from the narrow bounds of thy dominions.
Full joy I feel, while thus I cleave the air,
That my soft verse will charm thy daughters fair,
And warm thy sous!"
A FLOWER FOR THE DEAD.
OU placed this flower in her hand, you say ?
This pure, pale rose in her hand of clay ?
Methinks could she lift her sealed eyes
They would meet your own with a grieved sur-
prise.
She has been your wife for many a year,
When clouds hung low and when skies were
clear ;
At your feet she laid her life's glad spring
And her summer's glorious blossoming.
Her whole heart went with the hand you won;
If its warm love waned as the years went on,
If it chill'd in the grasp of an icy spell,
What was the reason? I pray you tell.
You cannot? I can! and beside her bier
My soul must speak, and your soul must hear;
If she was not all that she might have been,
Hers was the sorrow — yours the sin!
Whose was the fault if she did not grow
Like a rose in the summer ? Do you know ?
Does a lily grow when its leaves are chilled ?
Does it bloom when its root is winter- killed?
881
382 &EM8 OF POETRY.
For a little while, when you first were wed,
Your love was like sunshine around her shed;
Then a something crept between you two,
You led where she could not follow you.
With a man's firm tread you went, and came;
You lived for wealth, for power, for fame;
Shut into her woman's work and ways.
She heard the nation chant your praise.
But ah ! you had dropped her hand the while,
What time had you for a kiss, a smile!
^ou two, with the same roof overhead,
Were as far apart as the sundered dead!
You in your manhood's strength and prime;
She — worn and faded before her time.
'Tis a common story. This rose you say
You laid in her pallid hand to-day?
When did you give her a flower before ?
Ah, well, what matter, when all is o'er?
Yet stay a moment; you'll wed again;
I mean no reproach; 'tis the way of men.
But pray you think, when some fairer face
Shines like a star fi'om her wonted place,
That love will starve if it is not fed.
That true hearts pray for their daily bread.
A SINGING LESSON.
JEAN INGELOW.
NIGHTINGALE made a mistake-
She sang a few notes out of tune-
Her heart was ready to break,
And she hid from the moon.
She wrung her claws, poor thing.
But was far too proud to weep;
She tuck'd her head under her wing,
And pretended to be asleep.
A lark, arm-in-arm with a thrush,
Came sauntering \\p to the place;
The nightingale felt herself blush,
Though feathers hid her face.
She knew they had heard her song,
She felt them snicker and sneer;
She thought that this life was too long,
And wished she could skip a year.
'" Oh, nightingale," cooed a dove,
"Oh, nightingale, what's the use?
You, a bird of beauty and love.
Why behave like a goose?
383
884 GEMS OF POETRY.
Don't skulk away from our sight
Like a common, contemptible fowl;
You bird of joy and delight,
Why behave like an owl ?
" Only think of all you have done —
Only think of all you can do;
A false note is really fun
From such a bird as you!
Lift up your proud little crest;
Open your musical beak;
Other birds have to do their best,
But you need only speak."
The nightingale shyly took
Her head from under her wing,
And, giving the dove a look,
Straightway began to sing.
There was never a bird could pass —
The night was divinely calm —
And the people stood on the grass
To hear that wonderful psalm.
The nightingale did not care —
She only sang to the skies;
Her song ascended there.
And there she fixed her eyes.
The people who listened below
She knew but little about —
And this tale has a moral, I know,
If you'll try to find it out.
OVEE THE KEVER.
NANCIE A. W. PRIEST.
^^^Ip^^VER the river they beckon .o me—
Loved ones who've crossed to the farther
side!
The gleam of their snowy robes I see,
But their voices are lost in the rushing tide.
There's one with ringlets of sunny gold,
And eyes, the reflection of heaven's own
blue;
He crossed in the twilight gray and cold,
And the pale mist hid him from mortal view.
We saw not the angels who met him there;
Tlie gates of the city we could not see: .
Over the river, over the river.
My brother stands waiting to welcome me!
Over the river the boatman pale
Carried another — the household pet;
Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale —
Darling Minnie! I see her yet.
She crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands,
And fearlessly entered the fantom bark;
We watched it glide fi'om the silver sands,
885
386
GEMS OF POETRY.
And all our sunshine grew strangely dark.
We know she is safe on the farther side,
Where all the ransomed and angels be:
Over the river, the mystic river,
My childhood's idol is waiting for me.
For none return from those quiet shores
Who cross with the boatman cold and pale;
We hear the dip of the golden oars,
And catch a gleam of the snowy sail,
And lo! they have passed from our yearning heart;
They cross the stream, and are gone for aye;
We may not sunder the vail apart
That hides from our vision the gates of day.
We only know that their barks no more
May sail with us o'er life's stormy sea;
Yet somewhere,! know, on the unseen shore
They watch, and beckon, and wait for me.
And I sit and think, when the sunset's gold
Is flushing river, and hill, and shore,
I shall one day stand by the water cold,
And list for the sound of the boatman's oar.
I shall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail:
I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand;
I shall pass from sight, with the boatman pale,
To the better shore of the spirit land;
I shall know the loved who have gone before,
And joyfully sweet will the meeting be,
When over the river, the peaceful river,
The Angel of Death shall carry me.
THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL.
[The followiug exquisite lines, here complete, are from "Hymus
of Hope and Faith" by Horatius Bonar, one of the religious laureates
of "Auld Scotia."]
P and away, like the dew of the morning,
Soaring from earth to its home in the sun;
So let me steal away, gently and lovingly,
Only remembered by what I have done.
My name, and my place, and my tomb all for-
gotten.
The brief race of time well and patiently run,
So let me pass away, peacefully, silently,
Only remembered by what I have done.
Gladly away from this toil would I hasten.
Up to the crown that for me has been won;
Unthought of by man in rewards or in praises, —
Only remembered by what I have done.
Up and away, like the odors of sunset.
That sweeten the twilight as darkness comes on;
So be my life,— a thing felt but not noticed,
And I but remembered by what I have done.
Yes, like the fragrance that wanders in freshness,
887
50 GEMS OF POETRY.
When the flowers that it came from are closed up and
gone,—
So would I be to this world's weary dwellers,
Only remembered by what I have done.
Needs there be praise of the love- written record,
The name and the epitaph graved on the stone?
The things we have lived for,— let them be our story,
We, ourselves, but remembered by what we have done.
I need not be missed, if my life has been bearing,
(As its summer and autumn moved silently on)
The bloom, and the fruit, and the seed of its season;
I shall still be remembered by what I have done.
I need not be missed, if another succeed me,
To reap down those fields which in spring I have sown;
He who plowed and who sowed is not missed by the reaper.
He is only remembered by what he has done.
Not myself, but the truth that in life I have spoken.
Not myself, but the seed that in life I have sown,
Shall pass on to ages,— all about me forgotten.
Save the truth I have spoken, the things I have done.
So let my living be, so be my dying;
So let my name lie, unblazoned, unknown;
Unpraised and unmissed, I shall still be remembered;
Yes,— but remembered by what I have done.
THINGS OF BEAUTY,
KEATS.
A THING of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth.
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er- darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And siich too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
AU lovely tales that we have heard or read:
389
390
GEMS OF POETRY.
Ad endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us fi'om the heaven's brink.
Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast,
That, whether there be shine or gloom o'ercast,
They always must be with us, or we die.
CONTKASTS.
A short June nignt, now brightening fast to dawn;
A house with doors and windows open wide;
A silent sick-room, where a dying man
Lies prostrate in his youth and manhood's pride.
A bird's sweet carol, entering glad and shrill,
A bird that sings of Hope, when Hope has fled;
And the sound smites the watcher with a thrill
Of agony — as if some voice had said:
" Weep on — and watch! but I shall sing as sweet
Among the roses — though thy dear ones die;
And all the world shall pass with careless feet,
Although thy heart be broken utterly!"
O little bird! how tuneful was that lay,
That fell so bitterly on mourner's ears;
Yet it was summer — and what tongue will say;
" 'Twere well if Nature too could share our tears!"
THEOUGH NIGHT TO LIGHT.
A. LAIGHTON.
Thy love, dear heart, till closed thy lengthened years,
Illumed my being with its tender flame.
It was no flickering light that went and came,
Constant it shone through varying hopes and fears,
Undimmed by sorrow and unquenched by tears.
Though it hath vanished from the earth away,
And left a deeper shadow on the day.
Death does not hide it; for, as one who peers
Into the dark, bewildered, and descries
A guiding lamp within the casement set,
Knowing it homeward leads his weary feet,
So I, with yearning heart and wistful eyes,
As in .a vision wonderful and sweet.
Beyond the grave behold it shining yet.
QUESTIONS AND ANSWEES.
GOETHE.
What makes the time run short?
Business or busy sport.
WTiat makes it long to you ?
Hands with no work to do.
What brings debts quickly in?
Slowness to work and win.
What makes the glowing gold ?
The stroke that is quick and bold.
What man stands near the throne ?
The man who can hold his own.
LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM.
[What could be finer than the following verses penned by Lord
Byron, at Malta, September 14, 1809, in the album of some other-
wise forgotten beauty ?]
As o'er the cold sepulchral stone
Some name arrests the passer by;
Thus, when thou view'st this page alone,
May mine attract thy pensive eye!
And vehen by thee that name is read,
Perchance in some succeeding year,
Reflect on me as on the dead,
And think my heart is buried here.
894
ALBUM VEKSES.
VARIOUS AUTHORS.
SOLEMN murmur in the soul
Tells of the world to be,
As travelers hear the billows roll
Before they reach the sea.
FROM BAILEY S FESTUS.
Night brings out stars as sorrow shows us truths.
It is much less what we do,
Than what we think, which fits us for the future.
All aspiration is a toil;
But inspiration cometh from above,
And is no labor.
Respect is what we owe; love what we give,
And men would mostly rather give than pay.
We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He lives most
Who thinks most — feels the noblest — acts the best.
395
396 GEMS OF POETRY.
A little word in kindness spoken,
A motion, or a tear.
Has often healed the heart that's broken,
And made a friend sincere.
The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore.
— Byron,
Truth, crushed to earth, will rise again, —
The eternal years of God are hers;
ButError, wounded, writhes in pain.
And dies among his worshippers.
-Bryant.
"Whatsoe'er of beauty
Yearns and yet reposes.
Blush, and bosom, and sweet breath.
Took a shape in roses.
" Woman! " With that word
Life's dearest hopes and memories come.
Truth, beauty, love, in her adored.
And earth's lost paradise restored,
In the green bower .of home.
Beware the bowl ! though rich and bright
Its rubies flash upon the sight,
An adder coils its depth beneath.
Whose lure is woe, whose sting is death.
ALBUM VERSES. 397
A smile of hope from those we love.
May be an angel from above;
A whispered welcome in our ears,
Be as the music of the spheres ;
The pressure of a gentle hand,
Worth all that glitters in the land ;
O! trifles are not what they seem,
But fortune's voice and star supreme.
'Tis not in fate to harm me.
While fate leaves thy love to me;
'Tis not in joy to charm me,
Unless joy be shar'd with thee.
One minute's dream about thee
Were worth a long and endless year
Of waking bliss without thee,
My own love, my only dear!
— Tom Moore.
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust.
— J. Shirley.
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honor more.
— Sir R. Lovelace.
To you no soul shall bear deceit.
No stranger oflFer wrong;
But friends in all the aged you'll meet,
And lovers m the young.
— li. B. Sheridan.
398 GEMS OF POETEY. •
Reader, attend, — whether thy soul
Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole,
Or darkling grubs this earthly hole,
In low pursuit;
Know prudent, cautious self-control
Is wisdom's root.
— R. JBums.
I can not give what men call love;
But wilt thou accept not
The worship the heart lifts above,
And the heavens reject not, —
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow ?
—P. B. Shelley
Better trust all and be deceived,
And weep that trust and that deceiving,
Than doubt one heart that if believed
Had blessed one's life with true believing.
O, in this mocking world too fast
The doubting fiend o'ertaken our youth;
Better be cheated to the last
Than lose the blessed hope of truth.
— Frances Anne Kemblt.
So live, that, when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, that moves
To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death.
Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night,
ALBUM VERSES.
39£
Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave.
Like one who vei-aps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
— W. C. Bryant.
Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever;
Do noble things, not di-eam them all day long:
And so make life, death, and that vast for ever
One grand, sweet song.
— C. Kingsley.
Ever your friend
Till time shall end: — ,
Throughout this world of joy and sorrow,
"Your smile may make.
For your dear sake.
More bliss than living else could borrow.
— Ghiess f
THE FAREWELL TO MY HARP.
TOM MOOKE.
Dear Harp of my Country ! in darkness I found thee,
The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long,
When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee,
And gave all th}*" chords to light, freedom, and song!
The warm lay of love,and the light note of gladness,
Have waken'd thy fondest, thy liveliest thrill;
But so oft hast thou echod the deep sigh of sadness,
That e'en in thy mirth it will steal from thee still.
Dear Harp of my Country! farewell to thy numbers.
This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine,
Go, sleep with the sunshine of fame on thy slumbers,
Till touched by some hand less unworthy than mine.
If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover,
Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone,
I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over,
And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own!
400
FIRST LINES.
PAGEo
Acloud lay cradled near the setting sun. 291
A. drop of spray cast from the Infinite. - 95
A little word in kindness spoken. .323
A nightingale made a mistake 383
A night without of wind and rain 365
A short June night, now brightening fast to dawn - 391
A smile of hope from those we love . 397
A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers 149
A solemn murmur in the soul 395
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever 389
A wet sheet and a flowing sea - - . . 40
A youth went forth to serenade ,-119
Above a checkert^d table they bent .. _. 207
Afar in the gleaming Orient, the amber gates swing wide 181
Ah ! swan of slenderness, dove of tenderness 246
"Alas! my noble boy! that thou should'st die!"- 258
All aspiration is a toil- 395
All day in the deepening sunlight 218
And is the swallow gone?. 220
And thou art dead, as young aud fair .- . - 327
An old farm-house, with meadows wide 101
Are ye for ever to your skies departed 363
As fits the holy Christmas birth .215
As o'er the cold sepulchral stone 394
Away, away, through the sightless air .. ..- 115
Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight 185
Beautiful faces are those that wear 26
Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever 399
Better trust all and be deceived - , 87
401
402 FIRST LINES.
Beware the bowl ! though rich and bright 396
Bird of the wilderness 165
Blest pair of syrens, pledges of heaven's joy 275
Blow, blow, thou winter wind _ 226
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead 16'ii'
But the star that shines in Bethlehem 214
By Nebo's lonely mountain ..282
By the flow of the inland river 73
Calm on the listening ear of night 339
Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee 400
Did you hear that sound of woe 82
Drifting along the river, all gleaming 303
Ever your friend 399
Farewell! since never more for thee 86
Father, whate'er of earthly bliss 130
Folks were happy as days were long 36
For March the violets come 367
Gay, guiltless pair 261
God hath His solitudes, unpeopled yet 33
God of the earth's extended plains 315
God speaks to hearts of men in many ways 123
God willed : I was. What he had planned I wrought 95
Go, lovely rose! - 29
Green be the turf above thee .. 252
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings 226
Harness me down with your iron bands 277
Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee 143
He kept his honesty and truth 102
He meets, by heavenly chance express 122
He who hath bent him o'er the dead- -347
High walls and huge the body may confine - 242
His falchion flashed along the Nile 325
How richly glows the water's breast 267
How shall the Harp of poesy regain 372
How sleep the brave who sink to rest .-- 187
How sweet it were, if without feeble fright 28
I am dying, Egypt, dying- 287
I cannot give what men call love -- 398
I come from haunts of coot and hern 93
FIRST LINES. 403
I could not love thee, dear, so much 397
1 count myself in nothmg else so happy 195
I know not what awaits me 161
I lay me down to sleep, with little thought of care - 63
I love to look on a scene like this _.. 381
I saw thee weep — the big bright tear- 324
I see before me the Gladiator lie 135
I sit to-night as audience to my thoughts ...105
I stand by the river, so peacefully shining 85
I stood on the bridge at midnight 221
I walk down the Valley of Silence 64
I was not, and I was conceived _ 95
I'd mourn the hopes that leave me. 78
If aught of oaten stop or pastoral song 293
If for the welfare of the tree 371
If I had known in the morning 75
If in one poor bleeding bosom 203
If there should come a time as well there may 49
If thou dost bid thy friend farewell - - -.378
In olden time there lived a king - 76
In the dome of my sires as the clear moonbeam falls 273
In the still air the music lies unheard 24
In the wood, love, when we parted 125
It is much less what we do - -395
It is the hour when from the boughs 335
It was the calm and silent night - 368
Lay my babe upon my bosom 271
Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom 35
Life! 1 know not what thou art 25
Light after darkness 241
'* Live while you live," the epicure would say 196
Loneiy and wild it rose 248
Look on his pretty face for just one minute 280
Look out upon the stars, my love -.- 343
Meek dwellers 'mid yon terror-stricken cliflFs 333
Mine be a cot beside the hill 266
My fairest child, I have no song to give you - -342
My Father is rich m houses and lands 200
Mysterious night I when our first parent knew 269
My life is in the sere and yellow leaf 25
Nevei a word is said 67
404 FIRST lilNES.
Night brings out stars as sorrow shows us truths. - - 395
No, not more welcome the fairy numbers. 234
No shoes to hide her tiny toes 270
Not in the swaying of the summer trees 237
Not she with traitorous kiss her Savior stung 199
Not that from life and all its woes 254
Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger 168
O a wonderful stream is the river Time -263
O brown lark, loving cloud-land best.. 336
Oh ! ask not, hope thou not too much .357
Oh ! beautiful thou art 359
O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem 178
Oh ! the old clock of the household stock 321
Old fashioned, yes, I know they are 89
One morning, when Spring was in her teens 179
Only the actions of the just 397
On thy fair bosom, silver lake . _ ... 23
O soul of mine, look oat and see 96
Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lower'd. 45
Our sweetest and most bitter hours are thine . 88
Over hill, over dale 225
Over the river on the hill .120
Over the river they beckon to me 385
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow 308
Precious and lovely, I yield her to thee 46
Reader, attend, — whether thy soul - 398
Respect is what we owe; love what we give 395
Ring on, ring on, sweet Sabbath bell 80
Seated one day at the organ ...141
See what a lovely shell - -.209
She walks in beauty, like the night 310
Silence filled the courts of heaven 197
Sing a low song! - 160
Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares 228
Slowly the night is falling 169
Softly fell the touch of twilight on Judea's silent hillfi 126
So live, that, when thy summons comes to join 398
Some beauties yet no precepts can declare 155
"Sometime," we say, and turn our eyes 66
Sometime, when all life's lessons have been learned 61
FIRST LINES. 405
Soutli Mountain towered upon our rifrht, far off the river lay. -243
Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou 313
Such beautiful, beautiful hands 235
The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold - _ ... 361
The Beautiful City! Forever.. 6H
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day 55
The dryiug up a single tear has more . 396
The earth fjrows dark about me 111
The fairest action of our human life 319
The fountains mingle with the river 114
The harp at Nature's advent strung .,.231
The light was low in the school-room. 375
The Lord descended from above 233
The muffled drum's sad roll has beat . 189
The old farm gate hangs sagging down . . - . .351
The rain had fallen, the Poet arose 17
The splendor falls on castle walls 177
The Spring is here — the delicate-footed May 250
The surging era of human life forever onward rolls 211
The touches of her hands are like the fall 44
The weary teacher sat alone .-. -- 136
The world is full of glorious likenesses 192
There are in this loud stunning tide iii
There be none of beauty's daughters . . . 306
There comes a time or soon or late .-.265
There is many a rest on the road of life 47
There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet 140
There's a beautiful face in the silent air. 341
There the most dainty paradise on ground ..229
These are the living pleasures of the bard 379
They drive home the cows from the pasture - 51
This globe pourtray'd the race of learned men 289
This is the month, and this the happy morn 103
This motto I give to the young and the old 311
Thou com 'st in beauty, on my gaze at last 344
Three Poets, in three distant ages born 236
Thy love, dear heart, till closed thy lengthened years 392
Thy voice is like the sea's voice when it makes 292
"Till death us part" ...107
"Tired;" Oh yes! so tired, dear.. 32
Tis not in fate to harm me 397
406 FIRST LINES.
To him who, in the love of Nature, holds 255
To you no soul shall bear deceit 397
Too late I strayed, forgive the crime 260
Touch us gently. Time 43
Truth, crushed to earth, will rise again . - o96
Twas the eve before Christmas; "Good night ! " had been said 296
Two eyes I see whose sunny blue . . 100
Two lovers by a moss-grown spring -- 153
Under the greenwood tree - 226
Unhappy White, while life was in its spring 3£6
Up and away, like the dew of the morning . .387
Upon the sadness of the sea 224
Utterer of many thoughts which else were still - 309
Vital spark of heavenly flame ..307
We all have waking visions — I have mine 172
Weary hearts ! weary hearts ! by cares of life oppressed- 38
We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths 395
We scatter seeds with careless hand 70
What babe new-born is this 370
Whatisnoble? 'Tis the finer 317
What makes the time run short? - 393
Whatsoe'er of beauty 396
What was he doing, the great god Pan 133
What would I have you do ? I'll tell you, kinsman 330
When I consider how my light is spent . .152
When the humid shadows hover over all the starry spheres 304
When the mists have rolled in splendor ..239
When the song's gone out of your life 218
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought 188
Where the bee sucks, there lurk I 225
Where the rocks are gray and the shore is steep 285
"Which shall it be, which shall it be?". 204
Who has robbed the ocenn cave 99
Who will care? 268
Wing'd mimic of the woods ! thou motley fool 113
Within the flower-lined casket she was laid 124
Within the sun-flecked shadows of a forest glade 31
"Woman!" With that word 396
Word was brought to the Danish king 19
FIUST lilNES, 407
Wouldst thou from sorrow find a sweet relief .247
"Yoii have heard," said a youth to his sweetheart who stood--- 18
You placed this flower in her hand, you say 381
You remember the time when I first sought your home 318
Our Rover.
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